


Elementary, My Love

by SilverOcean01



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Murder, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 76
Words: 150,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverOcean01/pseuds/SilverOcean01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is not quiet sure what to make of his newest client. She is definitely not boring, but what happens after the case is closed? This story takes you on an adventure with Sherlock, John and the strange new girl, Ariel, as they solve mysteries and fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Text

** **

 

**Chapter I**

John Watson was sitting at a desk typing up his latest entry into his blog. He and Sherlock Holmes had just solved another case and this was the first chance John had had to write about their recent excitement.  
As he finished the entry, hitting the "submit" button, his phone rang. Picking it up, he saw that he had a new text message, although he didn't recognize the number. It simply read,  
"Hello John. Long time no see. Wanna do dinner? -AH"

John thought about the initials at the end. Whose were they? The initials looked so familiar... Ah! That's it. He thought. They're Andrew's. Andrew was one of the men from John's core. He was a daredevil type; always getting himself hurt in one stupid stunt or another. John had fixed him up more then a dozen times, and wrote those initials down just as often on the medical records.

"You're right, long time no see. When? -JW"  
"Hampshire 6? -AH"  
"Sounds good. -JW"  
"See you there. -AH"  
John put his phone down. Andrew wasn't exactly a friend of his, but he was another solider. And John hadn't seen him since he had left the core. Maybe he's finally grown up. John thought to himself laughingly, for he knew Andrew never would.

**XXXXXXXX**

John arrived at Hampshire at about half six o'clock. Unfortunately, traffic had not been the best and it had been almost impossible for him to get a cab. Still, he had made it there before he was too terribly late.

When he entered the restaurant, the waitress asked if he needed a table.  
"No thanks," he replied pleasantly, "I'm supposed to be meeting a friend."  
"Oh, your here to see Hunt?" John nodded. "Right this way."

The waitress lead John to a table near the back of the restaurant, where a woman sat all by herself. Before John could tell the waitress that she had made a mistake, the woman stood up and welcomed him.

"Dr. Watson, how wonderful it is to see you." She said sweetly. The waitress turned and retreated to another customer.  
"Excuse me, but do I know you?" He asked, cautiously.  
"Oh yes, pardon me." She said, "I'm Andrew's sister, Ariel."  
"Well in that case, please to meet you, Ariel." John said, extending his hand.

Ariel shook it and then gestured for him to sit down. As they sat, she laughed.  
"I would have thought you'd have a better memory, Dr. Watson." Ariel said smiling.  
"Pardon me?" He asked.  
"I meet you 4 years ago, when Andrews core came home for Christmas, remember?" She said.

It took John a moment to remember, but suddenly it all came back to him. His core had been sent home for 5 days over Christmas and as soon as they had landed they had been overrun by loved ones. John had seen his sister, Harry, but that was all the family he had. Andrew, who always said he owed his life to John, came over and introduced his sister to him. They had even spent a couple of days together, just the four of them.

"I'm sorry, it must have slipped my mind." John said, apologizing.  
"Don't worry." She smiled. The waitress came back and asked what they would like to drink. She quickly took their orders and was gone in a blink of an eye.

"5." John said, breaking the silence.  
"What?" Ariel asked.  
"It was 5 years ago that we met." John said. Ariel's face went rather blank.  
"Really? My, how time flies." She exclaimed. A rather uncomfortable silence followed her words.

John was getting restless, desperate to make any kind of conversation. Then something clicked in. Just as John was about to open his mouth, the waitress came back with their drinks and wanted to take their orders. As soon as she had gotten them, she rushed off. John tried to remember what he had wanted to say before she had interrupted. What was missing? He thought.

"Where's Andrew?" John asked.  
"Why do you think Andrew would be here?" Ariel replied.  
"Because he texted me..." John began, but then slowly trailed off.

He realized his mistake now. When he had gotten the texts signed "AH" he assumed they were from Andrew. But now that he had reacquainted himself with Ariel, he realized it had been her that texted him. Not Andrew. They were siblings with the same initials. Ariel was watching him as he made this connection. A look of sadness crept over her face, although John didn't know why.

"You were expecting him, weren't you?" Ariel sighed. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."  
"You are not disappointing." John quickly tried to apologize.

And Ariel wasn't disappointing. She was a beautiful woman, just a bit taller then John, with delicate features and pale skin. Her golden hair stood in contrast with her playful sapphire blue eyes. And the smile that always seemed to be hiding behind her lips contained perfect white teeth.

"You are not disappointing, Miss Hunt." John repeated.  
"Please, call me Ariel." She said, flashing her white teeth. But as quickly as the smile came, it faded away and the sad look crept onto her face again.

"John," she paused, waiting to see if he'd scold her for using his first name. When he didn't, she continued.  
"John, I didn't ask you here to recount old stories or to enjoy the wine. I have some news to bring you." At this she stopped and bit her lip, but she forced herself to continue. "Andrew's dead."

This news hit John like a brick wall. Images of the young solider raced through his head as he tried to make sense of this. Memories of having to set his broken bones, or removed a bullet from him, flashed past his eyes.

"Dead?" John croaked out. Ariel simply nodded.  
"What? How? Why?" John's questions poured out.  
"Shot. Died on the battlefield." Ariel said, short and concise. John was trying to wrap his head around it, then all of a sudden he realized something.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry for your loss." He said, with genuine sympathy. Ariel breathed in sharply.

"Thank you." She replied, "But I knew that one day it would happen. I always knew he wouldn't come back." She smiled. It was a pitiful smile. The kind that said that even though she believed what she had said, she had hoped it wouldn't come true.

"He was a daredevil. He told me himself he never planned on coming home. It was just his way." She said with a sigh. John noticed something. Her brother was dead and they were talking about him, yet, she wasn't crying. Tears weren't even threatening to come into her eyes. Was she cold and heartless? Did she hate her brother? Then another question crossed John Watson's mind. Why had she called him here? It wasn't as if they had been close. In fact, he hardly knew the man, not much more then acquaintances. Why would it matter to him that Andrew had died? A sly smile crept across Ariel's face as if she had read his mind.

"John, I need your help." She said, leaning in. John leaned in to hear her as she lowered her voice.  
"My life is being threatened." She whispered. "But by whom or why, I don't know. I've never done anything wrong, not against the law or the Queen and I'm barely rich enough to afford my own flat. So what this person could wish to gain from killing me, I don't know." The genuine tone of her voice convinced John that what she was saying was true, but just incase...

"How do you know someone's trying to kill you?" He asked.  
"Because of this." Ariel said and pulled her cellphone out of her pocket. She took a second to scroll through her voicemail before selecting one and hitting play.

A raspy, threatening voice came on.  
"You've got five days. If you don't solve my puzzle by then, I will kill you." The phone beeped to signal the end of the message.

"That's it?" John asked  
"There was a riddle that was mailed to me." Ariel said, scrolling through her phone. "I got it the day before the phone call. Here it is." She handed the phone over to John so he could see the picture she had brought up. On the screen was a picture of a letter and typed onto the letter was a riddle:

 _Two by Two_  
With hands of blue  
Wherever you hide  
They come after you

**_Solve it my lovely and you'll be free to go._ **

John looked up at Ariel, about to ask if she had any idea what this meant.  
"If I did, do you think I would have asked you?" She replied, reading his mind again.

"What do you want me to do?" John asked, baffled by the riddle. "I don't know what this means."  
"I want you and your detective friend to help me figure it out." She replied. "I heard you're the best and I need the best at the moment."

John thought about this. It was true that Sherlock was the best, even if he was a bit arrogant about it. He probably could solve this riddle in under a minute.

"Why didn't you come to our flat? You obviously knew where we are from the website." John asked.  
"Because, I needed to tell you about Andrew." She said, almost impatiently. "And I know the type of man your friend is; arrogant, rude and not one concerned for... Feelings."

The accuracy with which Ariel had just described Sherlock Holmes was astonishing, which lead John to wondering about how she knew about him so well.

"I've had... dealing with men like him before." Ariel said, reading his thoughts like a book. John thought it best to leave it at that.  
"Come back to the flat then? We'll want to inform Sherlock of his latest case." John said, preparing to leave. A little laugh escaped Ariel.  
"We can finish our dinner first." She said, smiling. "We've still got 3 days to figure this out."


	2. Sherlock Holmes

**Chapter II**

John opened the door of 221b Baker Street and showed Ariel inside. As he locked the door behind them, she stood patiently waiting for John to take her coat, which he promptly hung up.

"This way." He said as he began ascending the stairs. She followed quickly behind him. As they climbed the stairs, Ariel could hear the strains of a violin calling out in the darkness.

John opened the door to the flat and Ariel entered in before him. Looking out the window as he played the violin, Sherlock Holmes stood, a tall, dark figure standing in the light of a single lamp.

"John, I would really appreciate you not bringing your girlfriends back to the flat." Sherlock voice rang out as he put the violin away. Before John could open his mouth to retort, Ariel's sweet voice filled the air.

"I need your help, Mr. Holmes." It was almost as if she wanted to sugarcoat her words so much that Sherlock would be sick just hearing them. Interesting method of scolding. John thought. He'd have to remember that one for later.

Sherlock looked at Ariel for the first time. He noticed her slender, feminine figure and her deep blue eyes. She held herself in a completely different way then her words had suggested. This one knows how to play the game. Sherlock thought to himself as he picked up on little details about her in seconds.

"Of course you do." Sherlock said in his usual cool voice. "But what for?"  
"I heard you like puzzles." Ariel said, continuing in her sickeningly sweet tone. "So I have a puzzle for you." The sugary smile that crept across her face as she made herself comfortable in one of the chairs made John's stomach lurch. Was this really the same woman he'd just had dinner with? Where had this condescending sweetheart come from?

Sherlock just looked at Ariel as if she were a new spices of animal and he was trying to figure out what she was.  
"You wouldn't have come here if it was just a puzzle." Sherlock said, his mind working faster than his mouth. "There's something more."

Ariel flinched just the slightest bit, and she had given it away to Sherlock.  
"Ahh, your life is at risk. I see." He was starting to get excited. "Where is the puzzle?"

Without saying a word, Ariel pulled her phone from her pocket and handed it to Sherlock, it still being opened to the photo. He turned around and began pacing the room as he read. John finally found his voice.

"Would you like some tea?" He asked Ariel. Before she could answer, Sherlock put in his request.  
"Two lumps and a little milk, thank you." John sighed at the rudeness of his flatmate. Ariel touched his arm as if to say "it's alright", smiled and said,  
"Same for me, please."

John went into the kitchen to make tea, leaving Sherlock pacing the length of the living room, trying to figure out the riddle and Ariel sitting watching him. Suddenly, Sherlock stopped dead, a look of confusion on his face. Ariel move to the edge of her seat as she listened eagerly to what Sherlock had to say.

"I need more information!" He almost yelled.  
"What do you need to know?" Ariel replied, the sugar coating of her words gone.  
"Tell me about your brother." Sherlock said, impatiently. But he would have to learn patience because Ariel had another question for him.

"How did you know I had a brother?" She asked, almost completely astounded.  
"Simple, really." Sherlock began.

"The way you stand says that you are an older sibling, probably to oldest. Your clothing is new, but your bag is old, well worn, because it was a gift? Not likely. More likely of what is attached to it. A small trinket. Now, everything you have on is rather fancy, high quality, but not that. The quality of the trinket suggest a child made it, but you clearly don't have any children of your own, so a sibling. The fact it is meant to look like a solider suggest that the creator of it was a young boy. But not much younger then you at the time of your receiving it, otherwise it wouldn't be on your bag at all. Obviously then, it means something to you. It's important. But why? Because it was a gift from your younger brother." Sherlock concluded with a smug smile, looking at Ariel to confirm his conclusions.

"You're right. Absolutely right." Ariel said, a confident smile on her face.  
"I know." Sherlock said, smiling back.  
"Bloody hell!" John yelled from the kitchen.

"You alright in there John?" Ariel called.  
"Fine, just fine, thank you." He said sarcastically. "Just spilled the water on myself."  
"You should be more careful next time." Sherlock said seriously and looked down at Ariel. She quickly covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"Really? Hadn't thought of that." John fumed as he entered the room carrying a tea tray. He put it down on a little table between the chairs.  
"Thank you, John." Ariel said sincerely, taking her cup.  
"Yes, thank you." Sherlock chimed in as he pick his up. This seemed to soften John's expression.  
"You're welcome." He said, sitting down on a chair he'd pulled away from the table. A moment of silence followed as each enjoyed their tea.

"So, about your brother?" Sherlock said, putting his cup down and steepling his fingers in front of his face.  
"He was a decent man." Ariel began. "A normal boy. Daredevil in every sense of the word. Liked to see just how far he could push before getting seriously injured. Turned 29 two months ago. Never missed an opportunity to show off, but he loved his family. Skilled, amazing balance. He should have been a gymnast." As Ariel spoke, John could see her brother in his mind.

"Umm, yes. And how did he die?" Sherlock asked.  
"Sherlock!" John hissed. Of all the times to be insensitive, this was one of the worst.  
"Well he obviously is dead, judging by the way she talks about him in past tense." Sherlock retorted. John was just about ready to fire back some nasty words when Ariel interrupted.

"It's ok." She said and smiled at John. Looking at Sherlock she said,  
"Shot on the battlefield. Bullet to the right femoral artery. Bled to death before anyone could get to him." The tone in her voice showed no hint of emotion, even though she was talking about the gruesome way in which her brother had died.

"A solider." Sherlock mused. "Interesting."  
John was still slightly fuming as he glanced back and forth between Sherlock and Ariel. Sherlock was sitting in deep thought, eyes closed. Ariel was drinking her tea and acting as if this was a grand tea party, that she wasn't sitting in the home of the worlds only consulting detective talking about her brothers death because it might have some bearing on how to save her own life. To be honest, John found it all a little overwhelming.

"Do you have any ideas, Mr. Holmes?" Ariel asked after a few minutes of silence.  
"9, actually." Sherlock responded, giving no hint as to what they were.  
"Would you care to share them?" Ariel asked cautiously over her tea after a long moment. Sherlock sighed and opened his eyes.

"The most likely conclusion is a hospital, but I am unsure how that relates to you." Sherlock sighed again. "What kind of activities did you or your brother do that involved a hospital?"

Ariel just stared at him. The wheels in her head were trying desperately to turn, to find grip, but they kept slipping. Finally, they found grip and her mind began racing at 100 miles an hour. A terrified expression glanced across her face for an instant as the thoughts clicked into place.

"Bedlam." Ariel whispered breathlessly.  
"Sorry, what?" John asked, completely confused. It took Ariel a minute before she finally found her voice.  
"Bedlam. Or Bethlem, as it is more properly called. It's a place where they treat," Ariel paused, swallowing hard, "the mentally ill."  
Sherlock's head perked up a bit. What could that mean? What impact did it have on the riddle?

"You mean, the old hospital that was famous for its insane asylums?" John asked. Ariel simply nodded. She looked scared. John looked over at Sherlock, but his eyes were closed and his head was tilted back, thinking. The silence closed in around them, a dark cloak hiding the truth. John stared at Ariel, who sat in her chair frozen with fear.

"What does that mean to you? Bethlem, I mean?" John finally asked Ariel. Ariel forced herself to smile, calmed her nerves and answered.

"When I was a little girl, my aunt worked at Bethlem." Ariel spoke. "She called it "Bedlam", which means uproar and confusion. She took me there, serval times, when I was little. We would walk down the halls and I would hear screams, shrieks and sobs. It still scares me."

Sherlock made a little laugh-like noise. John ignored him for the time being.  
"Why do think the killer would want to bring up bad childhood memories?" John asked Ariel.

"I don't know." Ariel answered, "But I do remember one time, going to Bethlem with my aunt and she took me into the room of one of her patience. He... He really was crazy. He told me that if he ever got out of there, he'd find me. He... He looked at me and told me that he'd kill me. Then he laughed so hard, I thought he was just joking, so I laughed with him... You don't think...?" Ariel trailed off. Sherlock's eyes fluttered open.

"Yes. And I think I know how to find him." He said, pushing himself out of the chair.  
"But... But we solved the riddle. Didn't we? He won't kill her now, will he?" John asked in desperation as Sherlock hurriedly put his coat on. John was on his feet and Ariel was right behind him. Somedays John really wished Sherlocks brain would slow down, just a bit.

"We did. But we don't want him to get away!" Sherlock yelled as he headed down the stairs.

"Bloody hell." John muttered under his breath, grabbing his jacket and chasing after Sherlock.

"Never boring, is it?" Ariel asked, right on Johns heels.  
"Never." John replied, slightly out of breath.

They heard Sherlock yell "Taxi!" as they exited 221b Baker Street. Luckily, Sherlock had waited for them in the cab.

"Hurry up!" He yelled impatiently. John tried to retain his gentlemanly status by helping Ariel into the waiting cab. Sherlock turned to the cabbie and said:  
"Scotland Yard, please. And step on it."


	3. Sleep Tight

**Chapter III**

The taxi arrived at the steps of the Scotland Yard building. The cold night air of London whipped around them as John helped Ariel out of the cab, trying to show some level of manners in amongst Sherlocks rude complaints.

"Ah, Scotland Yard." Sherlock said, stepping out into the street and pulling his coat in around him.  
"Care to explain why we're here?" John asked, rejoining the group after paying off the cabbie.

Sherlock didn't say a word, but instead lead them inside the large building. Once inside, Sherlock stopped briefly at the front desk.

"Tell Lestrade I need to see him." He said to the lady seated behind the desk. She nodded and picked up the phone. Without waiting to hear what she had to say, Sherlock entered a large office setting through the glass double doors, with John and Ariel close at his heels. Sherlock made his way to Lestrade's office, and barged in without so much as a knock.

"Sherlock! You couldn't even knock?" Lestrade said, with a surprised look on his face.  
"I would have, but it seemed rather unimportant." Sherlock said dismissively. Lestrade leaned back in his large office chair.  
"What do you want, Sherlock?" He asked, sounding defeated.

At that moment, Ariel pushed her way past John and Sherlock into the room. Lestrade stared at her for a moment, then looked at John and Sherlock quizzically.

"This is John's latest girlfriend." Sherlock supplied. Lestrade raised an eyebrow at John.  
"She is NOT my girlfriend." John said defiantly. "She's..."  
"Look, it doesn't matter what I am, I need help!" Ariel interrupted. The room went quiet for a second.

"And Sherlock seemed to think he need to come here." She said, a bit quieter. This made Lestrade chuckle.  
"Him? Need my help? That's a first." Lestrade laughed. "What do you need?" He said, turning back to Sherlock.

"Any information you can give me about the recent releases of patients from Bethlem." Sherlock said. Lestrade knew better then to ask questions, because if Sherlock need this information from him, it was important. He called up head office to request the profiles of all patients released from Bethlem in the last six months.

"You know, the state's going to have my head for this." He said, hanging up the phone.  
"Well, we better make sure to prove that you are incredible useful to them." Ariel replied with a smile. A young lady came to the door with a stack of folders cradled in her arm.

"The files you requested, sir." She said briskly.  
"Thank you, Miranda." Lestrade replied as she handed them over to him. She quickly left the office.  
"Miranda? When did she join here?" John asked. Lestrade shrugged.  
"When Elizabeth went on maturity leave." He said.  
"Ah." John said and Sherlock rolled his eyes. Lestrade briefly looked over the files and seemed pleased.

"Here you are." Lestrade said handing the files to John.  
"Thanks Greg." John said as Sherlock turned tail to leave.  
"Just don't make me regret it!" Lestrade called after them.

As Ariel walked out the doors and onto the steps of Scotland Yard, she saw Sherlock hailing another cab, John awkwardly holding the stack of files and trying to look through the first few. Ariel sighed, wrapped her coat around herself and walked down the steps.

"Not exactly how I imagined my evening going." She said, striding up beside John.  
"Um, sorry about that." John said, rather distractedly. Ariel just sighed. A taxi pulled up and Sherlock got in. Ariel planted herself in next and tried (and failed) to help John in with the stack of files. In a blink of an eye, the were off towards Baker Street again.

"So, why do we have all these files?" Ariel asked, handing some of the them over to Sherlock.  
"So we can find out who our murderer is." He flatly. She started to flip through a handful of files that John had given her.

 _Tall black man with bipolar disorder. No. Young woman with post traumatic stress. No. Young war veteran, suffering from depression. Attempted suicide. No. Middle aged woman with Schizophrenia. Nope. Old man... diagnosed as a ... Psychopath._ Ariel looked closely at his photo. Terror gripped her for just an instance as she recognized his face.

"Boys..." She breathed. John and Sherlock looked up from their folders and at the one in Ariel's lap. "I found him."

**XXXXXXXX**

"His name is Edward J. Wallace. Admitted into Bethlem in October of 1987. Patient of Dr. Adam Tull. Diagnosed psychopath. Suspected in... 3 murders. Never found guilty. Released just last month." John read off as Sherlock paced the living room floor for the second time that evening. Ariel sat curled up in the chair again, listening intently.

"What exactly am I looking for again?" John asked, looking up at Sherlock.  
"Anything that might tell us where he is, or who he's after." Sherlock replied. John went back to reading the file, briefly scanning the pages before flipping to the next.

"No living family. Born and raised in Greenwich. Went to King's college. Became a teacher at Woolwich. Had a wife, but she was murdered. Wallace was suspected as the murderer. Never convicted."John read.  
"What about the other two murders?" Ariel asked.

"One was the murder of Nick Charter, age 15. Was a student of Wallace's. The other was the murder of Eve Barlow, age 34. She was a news reporter who interviewed Wallace after he lost his job, which was shortly before her death." John read off. Sherlock paused for a moment to look at John, which was just a distraction, so he went back to pacing.  
"Was there anything that linked them?" Ariel asked.

"Nothing other then they all knew Wallace." John said, looking at the different reports. Sherlock stopped and steepled his fingers in front of his face, thinking hard.  
"Although," John continued, "Psychopaths don't really need a connection to kill people."

"That's incredibly reassuring." Ariel said with a laugh. John smiled at her. It was getting late, well after midnight now. Ariel and John could probably stand to have at least a little nap. Ariel yawned.

"Would you like to lie down?" John asked. Ariel shook her head.  
"Not yet, thank you." She said, smiling. She knew she wasn't going home tonight. Sherlock stood perfectly still, eyes closed, hands in front of his face, thinking. Ariel marvelled at the amazing intellect this man had. He was so... Mysterious.

Sherlock mumbled something to himself.  
"What?" Ariel asked, snapping back to reality.  
"Nothing." Sherlock said flippantly over his shoulder. John stood up, apparently to keep from falling asleep in his chair, and headed towards the kitchen.  
"Tea?" He asked as he walked by Ariel.  
"Yes please." She answered, hoping that she could stay awake until it was made.

Another hour past, the tea gone, Sherlock still pacing and periodically mumbling to himself and John and Ariel losing the battle to stay awake. John finally gave up fighting and fell asleep in his chair.

John let out a low snore to signal he was asleep and Sherlock turned to look at him. Noticing he was, in fact, asleep, he looked over at Ariel. She caught his eye and shifted a bit.

"You know, it's after two in the morning. You may want to get some sleep." Sherlock said in a low voice, so as not to wake John.  
"I would, I just can't seem to get comfy in this chair." She laughed, shifting again.

"You can sleep in one of the beds, if you like." Sherlock offered.  
"Thank you." Ariel said, half asleep. "Which way to Johns room?" Sherlock laughed a little.

"My room is just through there," he said, pointing. "You'll be closer than in Johns room and it will be much easier to hear if your psychopath friend decides to pay you a visit. Besides, I won't be needing it."

Ariel was to tired to argue, so she pushed herself up out of the chair and stumbled over to Sherlocks bedroom. She closed the door behind herself and struggled with numb fingers to undo her skirt and bra.

After she successfully got them off, she laid down on the bed. The sheets were cool and crisp and the blanket was soft and heavy as she snuggled into the bed. She was asleep within seconds.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel awoke to the sound of the kettle boiling angrily. She sat up and stretched. She had sleep considerably well considering there was a psychopathic murder after her and that she had slept in a strangers bed.

In fact, the whole thing was strange. But she dismissed the thought as she stood up to put her clothes back on and straighten them out as best she could before making the bed and leaving the room.

"Good morning." Ariel said cheerfully, entering the kitchen.  
"Mmm, morning." Sherlock said distractedly, not even looking up from an experiment he was working on.  
Ariel walked over to the boiling kettle and poured herself a cup of tea.

"John up yet?" She asked, stirring in some sugar.  
"No." Sherlock replied, looking into his microscope. Ariel nodded, mostly to herself. She looked in to the living room and sure enough, John was still slumped over in his chair. She smiled. Sipping her tea in silence, she leaned against the counter and watched Sherlock work for a few minutes.

"Did you figure it out?" Ariel asked over the rim of her cup.  
"Figure what out?" Sherlock asked, writing something down.  
"Where Wallace is hiding?" Ariel asked.  
"Oh yes, he's in 3098 Bryanston." Sherlock said, continuing with his experiment.

"How did you figure that out?" Ariel asked.  
"If I were to explain it all to you, it would take longer then we have." Sherlock sighed and looked over at Ariel. She decided to leave it be. That's when John walked in, stretching and yawning.

"What did I miss?" He asked sleepily.  
"We have ourselves the location of a killer." Sherlock said, smiling mischievously.


	4. Lunch

**Chapter IV**

Just when Ariel thought she had found out what normal was in this case, Sherlock Holmes did something unsuspected. He had figured out where her would-be murderer was, so she expected him to be ready to run off and confront him. But he didn't. In fact, he didn't even seem interested.

"So, tell me again why we aren't breaking down this nut jobs door, again?" Ariel ask.  
"Because, we want to wait for his next move. Besides, he's under surveillance right now. He can't even leave his flat without me knowing." Sherlock said, flippantly.

"And how, exactly, would you know if he had left his flat?" Ariel pried. Sherlock sighed dramatically but didn't reply, instead he kept working on his laptop.  
"I said; how would you know?" She said, walking over and shutting Sherlocks laptop. He looked up at her, obviously annoyed.

"I have people." He said through gritted teeth. Ariel knew that was all she would get, so she gave him a satisfied smile and took her hand off his laptop, which he reopened and proceeded to go back to work.

John walked in, clothes changed from the rumpled dress shirt and pants that he had slept in and his hair still slightly wet.  
"Well, what now?" He asked, standing in the middle of the room, looking back and forth between Sherlock and Ariel.

"We wait." Sherlock supplied a minute later. He was working on something, but what it was, John didn't know.  
"Right." John said, curtly. "Are you hungry?" He asked, turning to Ariel. She looked up at him.

"I'm alright." She responded.  
"That's not what I asked." He said. She just smiled.  
"Well, I am. There's nothing in and there's a nice Thai place down the street. Care to join me?" John said to Ariel. She nodded.

"Sherlock? Are you going to come too?" John asked, turning to the human hunched over the keyboard.  
"Ummm... No." Sherlock replied slowly, obviously deeply involved in his work.

"Alright, suit yourself." John said, grabbing his wallet and coat. "Ready?" He asked Ariel, who was already buttoning up her coal black trench coat. He got a nod from her as she pulled her hair out of her coat and reached for her bag. They walked out of 221b, leaving Sherlock to do whatever it was he was doing.

**XXXXXXXX**

"So what exactly did I miss last night?" John laughed over his steaming bowl of curry.  
"What do you mean?" Ariel laughed back, stabbing at some delicious looking vegetables.

"I mean, I pass out on a chair in the living room, and when I wake up in the morning, you had slept in Sherlocks bed!" John replied.  
"Oh, that." Ariel said, gazing down at her impaled broccoli. "I was too tired to argue last night when he told me to go to sleep and that his room was safer."

"Umm." John sounded like he understood, even though he had a mouth full of curry. John eventually swallowed and said, "There really is no point in arguing with him on that."  
Ariel wanted to talk about something else, so she didn't reply but instead tried the noodles piled on her plate. After a moment, she brought up another topic.

"Why did he assume I was your date?" Ariel asked. Then, as an afterthought, she smiled.  
"I guess I've brought one to many girls back to the flat with me." John said laughingly.  
"I hope you don't think we're a couple." Ariel said, reaching across the table to rest her hand on Johns.  
"Not at all." He said, smiling and laughing. Ariel joined him before taking her hand back.

"So, what are we going to do know? I mean, we know where he is, what are we going to do about?" Ariel asked. John shook his head.  
"I honestly don't know. That's Sherlocks department, because he obviously has some kind of master plan." John said, laughing again. It felt good, to laugh like this.

"Do things ever become normal around him?" Ariel asked, giggling.  
"Never, not normal." John replied, then smiled and said, "But stick around long enough and things become... natural."  
Ariel smiled. She understood what John meant.

"Tell me how you met him." She asked, just trying to make friendly conversation.  
"It's a funny story, actually." John began.

**XXXXXXXX**

Back at 221b, Sherlock was hard at work, researching some names and places from a case Lestrade had given him earlier that morning.  
Sherlock had some waiting to do before he could close in on Ariel's would-be murderer and he did owe Lestrade for pulling the files for them the night before. Sherlock scrolled, briefly reading over the information on this particularly long web page.

He leaned back in his chairs and covered his face with his hands.  _This is so boring_! He thought to himself. But he pushed himself back up and began a new web search.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel and John walked out of the restaurant, both of them happy and full.  
"I don't think I could eat another bite!" Ariel exclaimed.  
"It was good, wasn't it?" John said with a smirk.  
"Delicious." Ariel agreed.  
They were walking home, enjoying the cool day.

"I appreciate your help." Ariel said seriously.  
"You're welcome." John replied sincerely. John looked up at the sky and just as he did, the first drop of rain splashed onto his face. Ariel held her hands out to feel the drops that were now beginning to fall. She giggled and looked at John.

"Race you back!" She yelled as she tore of in the direction of 221b.  
"Come back here!" John yelled as he started after her. It wasn't more than two minutes before they were inside the flat, leaning against the walls and panting.

"I... won..." Ariel panted.  
"Only... because... you had... a head start..." John replied. Ariel laughed faintly.

After a minute the caught their breath, and, though a bit damp, proceeded upstairs. They walked in as Sherlock said into his phone,  
"That's right. You're welcome." He hung up. He looked over at the damp people standing in the doorway.

"Have a good lunch?" He asked, turning to his violin, which he proceeded to make sure was in tune.  
"Quite." John replied.

Sherlock began to play Pueblo de Sarasate's 'Miramar', as John went to attend to the dishes in the kitchen. The song filled the room.  
Ariel sat down on the edge of one of the chairs and watched and listened as Sherlock played the entire piece through, without a single mistake.

"That was beautiful." Ariel said, as soon as he was finished.  
"Thank you. It is one of my favourites." Sherlock replied, a half smile on his face.

"What was the phone call about?" John asked Sherlock from the kitchen.  
"Just Lestrade. Said he'd swing by the flat latter to pick up the files." Sherlock said, swinging his bow around.

"Ah. Did he say when?" John asked.  
"No. He sounded busy though, so probably not till late." Sherlock said.  
"Oh." John sounded distracted, only half listening. "You know Sherlock, we really should do something nice for him."  
"Why?" Sherlock snapped. John walked over to the doorway to stare at Sherlock as he answered.

"His wife left him Sherlock. He needs friends." John said, evenly and slightly angry. Sherlock glared back at him. They stared each other down, neither one willing to give up.  
"You know I'm right." John said, evenly. Sherlock knew. Lestrade was one of the 3 people that Moriarty had put snipers on. One of the ones Sherlock had jumped off a building, faked his death and then hunted down those snipers for. Lestrade was one Sherlocks friends.

"What did you have in mind?" Sherlock asked through gritted teeth.  
"I was thinking, since we're just wait around and he'll probably be over after dinner, that we could take him out for some drinks." John suggested, drying a tea cup.

"Sounds like a wonderful idea." Sherlock said, slightly sarcastic. He returned to playing the violin, looking out the window as he did. John sighed. It took a lot out of him to convince Sherlock that these were the kinds of things you normally do for friends, instead of hunting down the people that were trying to kill them. John suddenly remembered Ariel.

"Would you mind, Ariel?" John asked.  
"No, not at all." She said. "But I really should go home, if all we are doing is waiting."  
"You can't go alone." Sherlock said, abruptly stopping the violin music.  
"Why not?" Ariel asked, turning to look at him.

"It's not safe." Sherlock said flatly. "We don't know what your friend will do."  
Ariel really couldn't argue with that, but if Sherlock wanted to keep her captive here for god knows how long, she should at least like to go home and get a change if clothes. And her toothbrush...

"I do need to get some things from home, if I'm going to spend another night here." She said. Sherlock looked at her. He could tell she was slightly uncomfortable being here, but he knew that this was the safest place for her.  
"If you must go, take John. John, go with her and take your gun." Sherlock instructed. John was slightly lost by what just happened.

"Umm, ok." John managed.  
"Would you mind?" Ariel asked.  
"No... No, not at all." John said, still trying to catch up.

"Let's go before your friend from Scotland Yard gets here so you gentlemen can go out for your drinks." Ariel said, smiling, as she grabbed her coat.  
"Alright." John said, grabbing his coat and wallet and then his gun from the little cupboard near the door.


	5. Tea Time

**Chapter V**

Ariel's flat was small, cramped. The kitchen was against the far wall, with a little table in the far corner near the window. A sofa and a telly sat in the middle and to the right down a little hall was her bedroom and bathroom. It was the bare essentials.

"Nice place." John said, stepping in and looking around. Ariel laughed.  
"It's enough." She said. She walked over to the bedroom door and disappeared inside it. John went over and sat on her sofa, when she called;  
"Make yourself at home. There's tea in the cupboard above the sink. And feel free to watch the telly if you want."

John decided that telly wasn't a bad idea, so he turned it on and flipped though the channels.  
Ariel was in her bedroom, packing a few necessary items into a small overnight bag. As soon as she was done there, she headed for the bathroom. Brushing her teeth felt so good. She then packed up her toiletries and headed back to her room.

She quickly changed into something more comfortable the the fancy skirt and blouse she had worn the night before. All of a sudden, she heard a large crash from the living room. She rushed out to see what had happened and was shocked to see John and a strange man with a gun wrestling in the middle of her living room.

The man seemed to catch sight of Ariel and tried to aim the gun at her, but John did an excellent job of knocking his hand down. Ariel stood and watched for a moment, trying to think if what to do.  _The gun!_  She thought.

She ran over to the tumbling men and tried to pry the gun for the mans hand, half helping John pin him down and half struggling to loosen the other mans grip.  
She stood up, gun in hand and pointed it at the intruder. Both men stilled, John successfully pinning the other man down.

"What... what do you want?" Ariel said, reining in the fear she felt.  
"I just wanted to give you a message." The man said, smiling evilly. "The Puzzler says hi." Ariel relaxed her just a bit, still aiming the gun at the mans head, ready to pull the trigger.

"Is that what he calls himself? The Puzzler?" Ariel mused. The man laying on the floor simply grinned. Ariel pulled out her mobile and dialled the number.  
"Hello? Scotland Yard? Yes, I've had a break in. The intruder is still currently here. No, I have him restrained." Ariel spoke into the phone. "Please send someone over at once." She hung up. John gave her a quizzical look, but Ariel ignored it, staring at the other man instead.

"Why did you need to call the cops on me?" He said, "I just was delivering a message."  
"From a psychopath who's trying to kill me. Let's also not forget that you came in here with a gun." Ariel said, defiantly.

It only took about 10 minutes before they heard the pounding of a half dozen officers running up the stairs. When they entered, the scene that greeted them was not what they had expected. Ariel still held the gun, still aimed at the man. John had gotten off him and tied his hands together, and was now standing over him.

The first three of the officers went over to the bound man and cuffed him. The fourth officer came over to Ariel. She handed him the weapon.  
"This was his." She said plainly. The officer nodded and then proceeded to ask her and John a bunch of questions, after which he and his team left.

"Well, that was exciting." John said, turning to Ariel. An adrenalin fuelled smile made its way across her face.  
"Very. Thank you." She said.  
"Didn't have much choice really." He laughed out. Ariel giggled.  
"I'm all packed. We should head back." She said, still on the rush from all the excitement. John nodded.  
"Ready when you are." He said, smiling.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlock was lying on the sofa when John and Ariel it back. He looked absolutely bored.  
"Missed out on some excitement." Ariel said, flopping down in one of the chairs  
"Ummm, really?" Sherlock said, still staring at the ceiling.

"Really, you did. Most excitement I've had all week." Ariel said. There was always a sarcastic hint to her voice when she was talking to Sherlock.  
"A man broke into my flat, threatened John with a gun and then proceeded to have a wrestling match with him in my living room. After which the cops showed up." Ariel said nonchalantly. Sherlocks head perked up at this and he looked over at Ariel.

"The burglar," she continued, noticing Sherlocks interest, "was sent by a man he called "The Puzzler"."  
"The Puzzler?" Sherlock repeated, sitting up and trying the name out himself. "Ooo, I like that."

John, as always, was standing in the door way to the kitchen, listening intently but not ever having much to say. Sherlock and Ariel were similar in a number of ways and managed to keep each other entertained, while John watched their drama unfold like a play.

"Do you think it could be Wallace?" John asked, trying to make sure they were all on the same page.  
"Of course it is! Who else would it be?" Sherlock said, glancing over at John disgustedly. Sometimes ordinary people could be so stupid. John sighed. There was a moment of silence.

"So... What now?" Ariel asked cautiously. Sherlock didn't reply but instead closed his eyes and lay back on the sofa.  
"You who!" came a friendly shout and a light knock as an elderly looking woman entered the flat, carrying a small tray of scones with her.

"Mrs. Hudson!" John said, happy to see the elder lady. He came over and gave her a hug before taking the tray of scones from her. "Come in. I just put the kettle on for tea."  
"Oh my. Dear Sherlock, look at the mess you've made." Mrs. Hudson said, glancing around at the flat. Then she caught sight of Ariel.

"And who is this?" Mrs. Hudson ask John. He looked over at Ariel and smiled as she was getting up and coming over to meet the older woman.  
"Mrs. Hudson, this is Ariel Hunt. Ariel, this is Mrs. Hudson, our landlady." John said, introducing the women.

"A pleasure to meet you deary." Mrs. Hudson said, shaking Ariel's hand. Ariel couldn't help but smile.  
"And you too." She replied. Sherlock huffed a bit, but Ariel had learned to ignore him.  
"Oh, I hope I brought enough scones. I didn't know you had company." Mrs. Hudson said worriedly, turning to John.

"I'm sure it'll be fine." John reassured her. The whistle of the kettle yelled angrily from the kitchen and John rushed off to quiet it. Mrs. Hudson and Ariel made themselves comfortable in the chairs and Sherlock remained lying on the sofa, eyes closed, deep in thought.

"Sherlock, are you going to have one of these delicious scones?" John asked as he re-entered the room, putting down the tea tray on the little table. Sherlock didn't answer.

"Sherlock?" John asked, looking over at his friend. Sherlock had fallen asleep!  
Ariel stifled a giggle as she looked over at him and Mrs. Hudson asked,  
"Did he sleep at all last night?" To which John replied,"I don't think so."

All of them were smiling and trying not to laugh. It was difficult.  
"Tea downstairs then dearies? We better let him sleep." Mrs. Hudson said. John nodded and picked up the tea tray and they all headed down the stairs, as quietly as they could.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlock tossed and turned on the sofa. He was having a nightmare. Cold sweat ran down his face, which was contorted in an expression of fear and pain.

"Ahh!" Sherlock yelled as he jolted upright, panting and scared. He brought his hand up to feel his face. It was damp and sticky with sweat. Sherlock couldn't remember when he had last had such a horrible nightmare. John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Ariel... all brutally murdered and Sherlock was left all alone. It was so real!

Wait, why was Ariel there? She was just a client. A person who brought him a distraction. A woman who needed his help.  
Sherlock looked around. The flat was lit by the late afternoon sun. Everything was still. If Sherlock strained his ears, he could hear faint laughter from downstairs. His stomach grumbled. Getting up off the sofa, he headed down the stairs.

Sherlock knocked ever so lightly on Mrs. Hudson's door before entering her flat.  
"Sherlock! You're up." Mrs. Hudson said smiling up from her chair.  
"You have a good nap?" John asked.  
"Ummhum." Sherlock said, mouth full of scone. He was still trying to shake the nightmare.

"Oh deary, grab a plate!" Mrs. Hudson scolded Sherlock. He simply shrugged and took a plate. Sherlock locked eyes for a brief moment with Ariel. She looked concerned. Sherlock ignored this fact, and instead, kept on stuffing his face. John handed Sherlock a napkin as he finished off the last of his scone.

A moment of silence ensued, which was ended by John asking Sherlock,  
"What now?" Sherlock paused for moment, trying hard to clear away the haunting images from his nightmare and focus on the case.  
"We wait." Sherlock said, giving his standard answer.

Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. John walked over and answered it. But all he found there was the busy London street on which they lived and a letter.

John picked it up and walked back to the flat. John handed the letter to Sherlock. Sherlock looked carefully at the stationary. A mans writing. Someone who had done a lot of writing in his time. Sherlock ripped open the envelope. Neatly folded inside was a letter. And printed on the letter was a message.

_**Congratulations Mr. Holmes. You solved my puzzle.  
Now care to solve another one?** _

__**Silver and green**  
Shine and gleam  
White to red  
He's already dead

_**Your friend, The Puzzler** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think and leave a comment!


	6. Sleep and Cellphones

**Chapter VI**

Sherlocks intense gaze at the letter must have given it away.  
"It's him, isn't it?" Ariel asked. Sherlock looked up from the letter.  
"Yes, of course it is." Sherlock said flippantly, mind already hard at work trying to solve the latest puzzle. Mrs. Hudson look confused.

"It's who?" She asked timidly.  
"A man who..." John started, but was cut off by Ariel.  
"Who is trying to kill me." She finished. Mrs. Hudson gasped.  
"Why would he want to do that?" She asked, distressed.

"We don't know. That's what we're trying to figure out." John said plainly. Sherlock turned abruptly and paced out the door. John and Ariel jumped up to chase after him.  
"Thank you for tea, Mrs. Hudson!" John called as he chased after Sherlock.  
"Be careful, dearies!" Mrs. Hudson called back, watching the three disappear into the busy London street.

Sherlock stopped, standing in the middle of the side walk, waiting for John and Ariel to catch up.  
"What was that all about?" John asked, breathing heavily as he approached Sherlock. Sherlock ignored the question and handed him the letter. As soon as John had finished reading, he handed it over to Ariel.

"Any ideas?" John asked.  
"7, so far. But there's only 1 that make sense in this case." Sherlock said. By this time Ariel had finished reading and looked up.  
"Andrew." She said under her breath. Sherlock nodded.  
"That's one possibility." Sherlock said. "The most probable one."

"But why? And how? What would my dead brother have to do with my life?" Ariel asked. Behind her sapphire eyes, Ariel's quick mind was racing through facts about her brother. They stood there, each deep in thought, for minute after minute.

"I got it!" She suddenly exclaimed. John and Sherlock looked at her.  
"There's going to be a service for Andrew tomorrow. They're going to give him a Queen's Commendation for Valuable Service award. I have to be there to accept it."  
"He's planning to bomb the service." Sherlock said, everything falling into place.

"Wait, how do you know that?" John asked, utterly confused.  
"Really not a difficult leap." Sherlock said as he started walking again.  
"What do you mean?" John said, chasing after him. Sherlock stopped suddenly and turned to John.

"2 of the 3 murders Wallace was accused of contained explosives. The kid? Died in a science lab experiment gone wrong. His wife? House light on fire and exploded. Do you see now?" Sherlocks voice conveyed a desperation to make John understand. Why did he have to be so stupid?

John simply nodded. He understood. He also understood that the look on Sherlocks face was a "how could you be so stupid?" looking, and he really didn't want to defend his intelligence...again.  
"So, what are we going to do?" John said, biting back some unkind words. Sherlock paused for a moment. The cars passed by as the silent minutes trickled on.

Finally, Sherlock spoke, though it seemed to be through gritted teeth.  
"We'll have to get Lestrade's help." John couldn't believe his ears.  
"Sorry, what?" He asked.  
"Lestrade. We'll need his help." Sherlock said, heading back towards 221b Baker Street.

The sun faded behind the London skyline as the three waited in the flat for Detective Inspector Lestrade to show up for the files. Sherlock was pacing yet again, trying to figure out how to bring down the murderers plan without scaring him awa. Ariel was writing furiously in a notebook she had brought from her flat and John sat with his laptop, mindlessly browsing the web.

A knock at the door had everyone stop what they were doing. Lestrade opened the door and was greeted by three faces all staring at him.  
"You were expecting me, right?" He asked, standing in the doorway.  
"Yeah, yeah we were." John stuttered out.

"Good. So did you find what you were looking for?" Lestrade asked, walking into the room.  
"Yes, we did." John said, storing his laptop and reaching over for the stack of files. He handed them to Lestrade.  
"And more." Ariel said, over her notebook. Lestrade looked over at her quizzically. Ariel looked up from her notebook to stare at the inspector.  
"We found a potential bomb."

"A bomb? Here?" Lestrade turned around, eyes sweeping the flat. He then turned his attention to Sherlock.  
"What the bloody hell is she on about?" Lestrade asked, outraged. Sherlock briefly scanned over the man. There were dark circles around his eyes, indicating that he had not slept well the night, or several nights, before.

"Our friendly psychopath is trying to kill our friend here." Sherlock said, pointing to Ariel. "And it seems that he plans to blow her up tomorrow at her brothers funeral."  
Lestrade put his hand over his face. He would never truly understand Sherlock and his cases.

"So, what can I do?" Lestrade said, resigning to the fact that this was all probably true and, if so, there would be a lot of people dead tomorrow if he didn't listen.  
"We need to find a way to find and stop the bomb, before it can go off. But not until the last moment." Sherlock said, his calculating eyes staring into empty space.

"And why the hell not before?" Lestrade asked.  
"Because if we catch the murderer now, he still may well blow up the place. And if we let him think he might actually succeed, we have a better chance of catching him in the act." Sherlock retorted. Lestrade sighed and unclenched his fists. Sherlock was right. Again.

"How do we do it?" He asked.  
"Simple." Sherlock said smiling smugly.

**XXXXXXXX**

The night was long and dark. Ariel spent it in Sherlocks bed again, while he resigned himself to the sofa. John was the only one who seemed to sleep soundly that night. Sherlock was haunted by the nightmare that had appeared during the day and Ariel was struggling with her own fears.

She laid awake, mulling over what had happened that day. Solving the first puzzle, getting a second. She wondered why this man would want to play such a game with he life. She thought about her brother.

She would probably be asked to give a speech for him tomorrow. She didn't mind saying a few words, but she wouldn't say much. She remembered her brother, young, eager, and too reckless for his own good. A small tear rolled down her cheek as she drifted of into sleep.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel awoke sleep to the sound of her mobile going off. She groggily answered it.  
"Umm, Hello?" She said into her phone.

"Hello, Ms. Hunt." A mans voice said on the other end of the line.

"Oh, it's you." Ariel said, sighing and rubbing her eyes. "Don't you know it's," she glanced over at the clock, "6 in the morning?"  
"I am perfectly aware of the time." The man said. He sounded impatient, but he didn't continue.

"What do you want?" Ariel asked.  
"Do you have it?" He asked, low and cool.  
"No, not yet." She said.  
"Get it. I need it." The man said and promptly hung up. Ariel sighed, rolled over and fell back asleep.

**XXXXXXXX**

The next time she woke up, it was to someone knocking loudly on the door.  
"Wake up!" Sherlock yelled as he banged on the door. Ariel sighed and stretched.

"I'm up, I'm up!" She yelled back, climbing out of bed. Sherlock burst in.  
"Ah, good." He said, giving her a quick smile before rummaging through his dresser. Ariel rolled her eyes. Sherlock obviously found what he was looking for, because he quickly dashed out of the room.

Ariel closed the door and changed into something appropriate for the occasion that was to happen today. She couldn't help but feel that as she commemorated her brothers life, her own would be taken away from her.

She walked out of the bedroom and was greeted with a smile by John. She liked John, and she smiled back.  
"What's for breakfast?" She asked.  
"Toast and jam." John said, handing her a plateful. "Sorry, it's all we've got."

"Looks good. Thank you." Ariel said, taking a bite. Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically from his spot at the table. Ariel just ignored him and ate her toast.

The funeral ceremony wasn't until 1 that afternoon, so yet again there was waiting to be done. A light rain sprinkled over the city as Sherlock relaxed on the sofa, reading a book. John was typing on his computer again, Ariel correctly guessed he was making another entry in his blog. Ariel, for her part, sat in one of the chairs and began writing a few words of what she might say about Andrew.

When she had written out six different speeches, she closed her notebook and began observing her surroundings. She watched Sherlocks eyes as they darted from line to line as he read, she watched Johns mouth frown as he tried to think of what to write next. She watch the rain fall outside, the cars drive by and the people make their way down the street.

Her thoughts drifted back to the phone call this morning. She began to scan the room for the item she had been asked to locate. She had been a bit preoccupied with staying alive up until now. She thought about where she might find the item in question. Of course, when she thought about it, it would probably be in Sherlocks room.

She cautiously got up, taking her notebook with her, and headed for the room. Inside, she found the made bed, the dresser, the wardrobe, and the periodic table of elements painting. She closed the door partly behind herself and went over to the dresser.

On it was a little dish of tie pins, cuff links (obviously a gift, because they had never been worn) and two watches. Ariel looked at the trinkets in the dish until she found the one she was looking for; a small silver tie pin with a crystal swan on one end.

"You ok?" John asked, poking his head in.  
"Yeah. I'm fine." Ariel said, flashing him a smile as she slide the pin into her pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Leave a comment, please!


	7. The Chase

**Chapter VII**

The funeral was just as depressing as Ariel thought it would be. People she didn't know, or hardly recognized, approached her with their condolences. All in all, about 50 people showed up to Andrews service.

While she knew she should be giving her full attention to the service, she couldn't help but be a bit on edge as she waited to explode. Sherlocks plan involved her going by herself to the funeral, so that the Puzzler might not suspect that they'd figured out his latest puzzle.

Lestrade and his men were close by, watching and waiting. And Sherlock and John were, as according to plan, visiting a nearby grave site to keep an eye on things. Sherlock had Lestrade's team check the location of the funeral out last night to make sure it was safe, which it had been. This made it a little easier for Ariel, but she was still nervous.

So, when the Admiral that was giving the speech at the moment asked Ariel to come up, she was completely dumbfounded. With a nervous giggle she stood up, walked up to the Admiral and said her peace.

John and Sherlock were watching as she said her few words. If they strained, they could just make out what it was she was saying. At that moment, she was thanking the Crown for bestowing her brother with the honour of the Queen's Commendation for Valuable Service award.

"Do you see him?" John asked in a whispered voice.  
"No." Sherlock said, eyes intensely observing the crowd gathered around the coffin. After another moment of silence, in which Ariel's voice could be heard, Sherlock spotted him.

"That's him." Sherlock said, and started to walk down the path, trying to act natural.  
"Who?" John said, falling into step behind Sherlock.  
"There. Third row from the back, on the end. See him?" Sherlock said, picking up the pace.

"Yeah, I see 'em." John said, keeping up with Sherlock. The man in question had a box with him, wrapped up to look like a gift. Obviously, he planned to give the box to Ariel, then, when he had gone far enough away, pull the trigger.  
Ariel was walking back to her seat, the funeral almost over.

The man approached her and handed her the box. They exchanged a few words and then he returned to his seat. Sherlock pulled out his mobile.

"You see him?" He said, once his phone had connected.  
"Yeah, we got sights on him." Lestrade said on the other end.  
"Good. The bomb's in the box." Sherlock said and hung up.

The man had caught sight of Sherlock and John running towards him and he took off. Ariel caught this, but had to keep her calm, if this was going to go according to plan.

One of Lestrades team, Chloe Marcus, was to come up and comfort Ariel, and offer to take the package for her. Chloe was on the bomb squad, and would take it away to be defused.

This, however, was rather interrupted by the man who ran away and was now being pursued by John and Sherlock. Across the graveyard, the man was chased, looking back only once. Sherlocks pace increased, trying desperately to catch the man. John was struggling to keep up. When they hit line of buildings on the edge of the graveyard, the chase really began. Sherlock knew where this man would be heading and thus worked out the quickest route.

"This way." Sherlock said breathlessly to John and they turned to chase after the bomber.

Ariel and Chloe's act went according to plan, and 5 minutes later the bomb was defused. As she got the text giving her the all clear, the Admiral dismissed the group. Andrew was buried, and the crowd that had gathered dispersed.

The tears that had stained Ariel's face during the ceremony, she had now whipped away and she had her strong voice back when Lestrade picked up the phone.

"Where's Sherlock?" She asked.  
"I don't know. We haven't had visual on him in the last 10 minutes." Lestrade answered, sounding frustrated. Ariel's throat clenched.  
"Find him." She said firmly.  
"Working on it." Lestrade answered before Ariel hung up.

She knew that, according to plan, this was supposed to happen. But not for this long. Ariel gave one last look at her brothers tombstone.

"Rest in peace." She whispered and then began striding away. A black car was waiting for her at the edge of the cemetery. Getting in, she didn't even say a word to the woman sitting beside her. As the car pulled away, the other woman looked up from her phone.

"Nice to see you again." She said, smiling. It wasn't a nice kind of smile though.  
"You too, Rebecca." Ariel replied, gazing out the window.  
"That's not my real name, you know." The other woman said, going back to her phone.

"I need to call you something." Ariel remarked. The other woman didn't seem to care. In less then five minutes, they were parked outside a large exhibition centre. It was vacant, completely devoid of all human life. The woman not named Rebecca and Ariel got out of the car, and walked in to the colossal and empty building. As soon as they were inside, not Rebecca stopped and pointed across the room, to a set of double doors.

"He's in there." She said, not even looking up from her phone. Ariel rolled her eyes. This woman was really getting on her nerves. But, she took the instructions and pushed her way through the double doors.

On the other side was a giant room, the kind that could pass as an aviation hanger. Lit only in the middle by a handful of lights, this room had a ghostly look to it. It smelled of dust and mildew. Of course, standing under on of the lights, leaning against his umbrella, was the man Ariel had come to see.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Hunt." His cool voice rang out in the empty room.  
"Afternoon, Mycroft." Ariel said, trying to match his almost cold tone.  
"Do you have it?" Mycroft asked, walking up to her with his hand out. Ariel pulled the tie pin out of her pocket and gentle placed it in Mycroft's waiting hand.

"Ah yes, the silver swan pin. It was my fathers, you know." Mycroft said, tucking the pin into his pocket. "He thought it would suit Sherlock. But of course, he never wears it."

"Lovely story. But now that I'm done your little errand, mind telling me why you got me to steal a tie pin from Sherlock?" Ariel asked. Her temper had flared up. She really hated being controlled like this.  
Mycroft gave her a devilish grin.

"Does it matter? It was payment, after all." He said, swinging his umbrella happily by his side. Ariel just scowled at him. She was really beginning to hate this annoyingly smug man.

"Fine." She spat out. "I'll be leaving then." She turned on her heels to leave.  
"Oh really?" Mycroft asked smugly. "I think you'll be staying just a bit longer." Ariel turned to face him again

"And why, pray tell, would I want to do that?" She asked, outraged.  
"Because I have a proposition for you." Mycroft said, inspecting his umbrella. Ariel simply waited until he finished. After a brief minute, Mycroft began.

"You have come to know my brother, yes?" Ariel didn't answer, so he continued.  
"I want you to give me information on him. Nothing you would feel... uncomfortable sharing, just, keeping me up to date from time to time. And of course, you would be paid quite handsomely."

"Why do you need me? You seem to keep close enough tabs on him as it is."  
"Because it would be... Useful to have someone on the inside. Someone close to him." Mycroft said, carefully choosing his words. He studied Ariel's face. She seemed to be weighing his words carefully, checking over all their possible implications before speaking.

"Umm... No. I think I would be much happier not being one of your spies. Tah darling!" Ariel said in her most annoyingly sweet voice, turning around and striding towards the double doors.  
Mycroft stood, watching her go. How does he manage to find such loyal friends? He thought, watching the door close behind Ariel's slim figure.

**XXXXXXXX**

Chasing this particular maniac was a bit of a challenge for Sherlock. He was already getting tired, calves burning against his fast pace. Sherlock could hear John panting along side him as the rushed down yet another small back alley of London.

Down this one, two lefts and then a right and the should have him. They had taken a shorter route to the bombers supposed destination, while the police made sure he didn't try to go somewhere far, the plan had worked.

Rounding the second left, Sherlock caught sight of the bomber. Seeing that he had been right, Sherlocks vigour was renewed and he began to run just a little faster.

Behind him, John was seriously beginning to wonder when he would just keel over. The chase had been on for quite awhile now, and Johns legs were going numb. He thought back to the war, the fights he had been in. He remembered seeing good men die beside him, young men who didn't deserve to be put it this situation.

 _Like Andrew._  John thought. The thought that this young man died serving his country, made John realize the necessity of caring on the chase. Round the last corner and Sherlock and John saw the bomber dash quickly inside the small apartment building.

They followed him inside. The apartment looked like any other home, but they knew that somewhere inside the maze of doors, hallways and rooms, there lay a killer, waiting to pounce.

They heard the bombers footsteps on the floor above them and quickly followed. John had drawn his gun, aiming anywhere he heard a noise. Climbing the stairs, they realized that all sound had stopped, except for them. As they approached the room at the top of the stairs they heard a low, raspy voice.

"Come in, what a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holmes. And you, Dr. Watson." An elderly looking man sat in a large chair on the far side of the room, watching as John and Sherlock carefully approached. The bomber was standing by his side, glancing between the three men.

"It is really lovely that you could join us. I see you have met my son." Said the older man, gesturing towards the bomber. "Gave him quite a fright, you did." He gave a low chuckle. "Now, shall we begin?"

John had his gun aimed at the bomber, waiting for the slightest hint for him to pull the trigger. Sherlock stood, perfectly poised, carefully observing his enemy. He had to give Lestrade time to reach them before he could start a fight.

"You have questions, yes? Well, say something man!" The old man demanded.  
"Hello, Puzzler." Sherlock said, cool and even. "That was quite the risk you took."  
"Oh, he speaks!" The Puzzler said gleefully, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Let us begin!"


	8. Arrest, Sorrow and a Proposal

**Chapter VIII**

The bomber had a gun on Sherlock before he could even blink. Johns steady hand was wrapped around the handle of his gun, ready to fire.

"No need for firearms, boys. We are just going to play a little game." The Puzzler said, getting out of his chair. "You do like games, don't you, Mr. Holmes?" He asked.

"I prefer them when they do not involve killing innocent people." Sherlock said coolly.  
"Oh, but the girl in question is not as innocent as you might think, Mr. Holmes. No, she is not innocent at all." The Puzzler smiled.

"Why would you say that?" Sherlock asked plainly, trying to buy time.  
"You have not seen it yet. The way she plays you like a violin. She is an actress, capable of twisting your emotions and reasoning to bow to her whims. Even you, Mr. Holmes, can not escape her tricks." The Puzzlers sly expression made his words even more powerful.

"Sherlock..." John warned under his breath. Sherlock glanced at John. Johns gaze was locked on the bomber.  
"Why assume I don't know it yet? I am capable of a great many things no ordinary human is capable of." Sherlock replied to the Puzzler. The old man laughed.

"Because not even you, the great Sherlock Holmes, can resist the beauty of such a woman! I am willing to bet my life that you've even begun to fall in love with her already!" The Puzzler taunted.  
"I'm sorry to inform you, that you will be losing that bet." Sherlock said, a sly grin on his face.

"Ha! You just don't know it yet!" The Puzzler laughed out, his voice ringing through the bare room. Sherlock knew he still had to buy a few more minutes to make sure Lestrade was there.

"What makes you so sure I would fall in love with her?" Sherlock said. John glance over at Sherlock, raising an eyebrow.  _What the hell was he doing?_  John thought.

"Because, she seems like your type. Proud. Arrogant. Self assured. " The Puzzler listed off the qualities, each one with more emphasis then the last. Somewhere deep inside Sherlock, his pride was wounded by these words. How dare he! Flashed through Sherlocks mind. But he manage to keep in control of his emotions.

"Ah, I see. You think that because we share traits, it will make us lovers." Sherlock taunted back, playing the Puzzlers game. The Puzzler gave a low chuckle and said:  
"Mark my words boy, she will find her way under your skin and when she does, you'll never be able to get ride of her." The bomber interrupted. "Sir, we've got company."

"Ah yes, the cops. Hardly worth their weight." The Puzzler observed, "Sean, take care of these meddlers."

The bomber pointed his gun and fired at John. John dodged out of the way and tackled him to the ground. As these two men wrestled for the second time in two days, Sherlock lunged at the older man. The older man easily side stepped the attack and hit Sherlock in the back with his elbow, knocking the detective flat on the ground.

"You know, Mr. Holmes, you are quite amazing. Moriarty said it would take more to get you to come out and play." said the Puzzler, standing over Sherlock. "A shame our game had to end so soon."

At that moment Sherlock jumped back up, and began delivering some heavy blows to the older man. A shot from Johns gun fired harmlessly into the far wall. Then all of a sudden, they heard someone climbing the stairs.

Sherlock strained to hear the footsteps. There seemed to be two, no, three people. A moment later, Ariel, Lestrade and one of his team entered the room, all with guns in hand, all pointed at either the bomber or the Puzzler.

John got off the bomber, slowly backing away with his gun trained on him. Lestrade's man walked over to the bomber, took his gun and hand cuffed him. Lestrade went over and hand cuffed the Puzzler.

"Hello, my dear." The Puzzler said to Ariel as he was being escorted passed her. She simply ignored him. The Puzzler was pushed past her, with the bomber close behind.

"Seems I always come to your rescue." She said to John after the baddies had been escorted out. John chuckled. Ariel glanced over at Sherlock. He caught her eye.

He wondered how much, if any, of the things the Puzzler had said about Ariel were true. She gave him a tired smile. She knew what the look he was giving her meant. It was the look he gave something he was trying to figure out. What, though, she had no idea.

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I would not be alive right now if it weren't for you." Ariel said courteously.  
"You are most welcome." Sherlock replied. John gave a quick glance between them. Something just happened, but he couldn't figure out what.

**XXXXXXXX**

The weeks after the Puzzler case were long and uneventful. John type up the case in his blog, titling it "The Puzzling of Puzzles". Ariel kept in touch with John, texting him ever so often and even visiting 221b occasionally.

Every time she did, whether it be for tea or lunch or just to say hi, Sherlock barely acknowledge her. She felt a pang of sorrow in her heart. She had hope to befriend the consulting detective.

Sherlock, for his part, was trying to avoid her. If what the Puzzler said was true, she would most certainly be trouble. But every time she came over, he couldn't think of what to say. He wanted to be able to look at her and deduce whether the things he was told were true or not.

Sherlock knew two things about her for certain; she was an actress and she was intelligent. Not as intelligent as Sherlock, but defiantly not ordinary.  
One drizzly night, Sherlocks phone rang. Picking it up, he noticed a new text from an unknown number.

"We need to talk. Angelo's in 15? -AH" Ariel. She needed to talk. It must have been meant only for Sherlock, otherwise she would have texted John too.  
"I agree. See you in 15. -SH"

As Sherlock sent the message, he propelled himself out of his chair. He headed for his bedroom to change into something more... appropriate.

**XXXXXXXX**

Fifteen minutes later, Ariel walked in the door of Angelo's. She quickly spotted the tall, dark detective in one of the booths by the window. She sauntered over and placed herself opposite Sherlock.

He looked over at her. She looked quite nice this evening, with a black dress and a necklace the same colour as her eyes.

"You needed to speak with me?" Sherlock asked, feeling a bit awkward all of a sudden.  
"Yes." Ariel replied slowly, "I know the Puzzler talked to you about me. He probably told you lies. I want to know what he said."

Sherlock wondered how she knew. But she obviously did, and the questions that had been buzzing around in his head might finally get answered.  
"He told me you're an actress, twisting and playing people to your whims. A proud, arrogant, self assured woman." Sherlock said, trying to keep his voice even. Ariel leaned back in her chair. She sighed.

"It is true I am a bit of an actress, but only when I have to be. For instance, Mr. Holmes, when I met you. I needed to show you that I meant business, that I was more then just another damsel in distress. I needed your help, so I did what I had too. As for proud, arrogant and self assured... I'm sure everyone is to a certain extent." She grinned as she finished. Ariel looked at Sherlock. Something wasn't quiet right.

"He told me you'd been playing me. Like a violin." Sherlock said, low and husky. A sad look appeared in Ariel's eyes. She had thought the detective was better then this.

"Have you not played people as well, when it's what needs doing? Playing on the whims and emotions of others, so that you may discover the truth?" Ariel asked, then leaned in closer. "You and I are not completely different, Mr. Holmes. When we need to find truth in the lies, we are willing to go the extra mile to find it, leaving whatever carnage necessary in our wake."

Sherlock looked at her. She looked completely honest. She wasn't hiding anything. Why though, did he feel like she was holding something back? He decided to risk it.

"What else is there that your not telling me? How truthful are you really?" Sherlock challenged. Ariel knew what he meant. Her little escapade with Mycroft troubled her whenever she looked at his younger brother.  _Time to come clean_. She thought.

"Your brother offered to pay me to spy on you." Ariel said with a sigh. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, daring her to explain.  
"Abducted me, made me run one of his errands and then offered me a job." Ariel said, a hint of resentment in her voice. She hated Mycroft for what he had made her do.

"Did you take it?" Sherlock asked. Ariel almost believed he sounded worried.  
"No. I would never willingly work for that man." Ariel spat, letting her hatred control her voice. Sherlock grinned with approval at her tone.  _Glad to see I'm not the only one._  He thought.

"Good." Sherlock said. An awkward silence followed. Ariel looked out the window. She had a proposal for Sherlock, but how would he react? Would he turn her down? Would he mock her? What if he agreed? How would she ever live up to her end? Swallowing hard, she decided to go for it.

"Let me prove myself to you. Let me work on a few of your cases with you to show you that I'm nothing like what he said. You could use another assistant." Ariel said, trying to sound convincing. Sherlock paused.

Of all the insane things he had expected to hear from her, this wasn't even on the list. Sherlocks ice blue eyes studied Ariel for a moment. What were her motives? Why did she want to help? What could she possibly bring to the table?

"Please Mr. Holmes. Let me prove myself." A warm smile covered Ariel's face as she spoke, reaching across the table to rest her hand gentle on Sherlocks. After another moments consideration, Sherlock had made a decision.

"Alright. You are on the next three cases." Sherlock said, level and cold. Ariel's heart jumped. Yes!

"Thank you Mr. Holmes." She said, her ecstatic smile betraying her even tone. Just as they fell into another awkward silence, Sherlocks phone went off again. This time though, it was John.

"Where are you? -JW"  
"Angelo's with Ariel. Why? -SH"  
"What? Why? I need to talk to you. -JW"  
"Never mind. Why John, what's wrong? -SH"  
"Tragic family circumstances. I have to leave tomorrow to deal with it. I'll explain later. -JW"

Sherlock looked down at the text, slightly confused. As far as he knew, Johns only close living family was his sister, Harry, and she was in London. He didn't understand why he was leaving.

"Be home in a minute. -SH"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you thought!


	9. Goodbyes and Hellos

**Chapter IX**

"I'll be gone for at least a week." John said, packing.  
"Why didn't you tell us you had an aunt in Singapore?" Ariel asked, grabbing one of his shirts and placing it in his suitcase.

"Or that she was dying?" Sherlock said, standing in Johns bedroom door.  
"Honestly, I didn't know where in the world she was. Or that she was dying. But she obviously keep in touch with Harry, because she asked Harry to look after her funeral preparation and dealing with her possessions." John said, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

"So, a random aunt that you didn't know existed contacted your sister, asked her to deal with stuff after she kicked off and your sister asked you to come because...?" Ariel trailed off, hoping John would finish for her. John sighed.  
"Yup, you've got it. And I have to go, well, because Harry wants me to." John said plainly. Sherlock rolled his eyes from his spot at the doorway. Why did people have to be so... sentimental?

"You sure you two will be safe in Singapore?" Ariel said worriedly. John looked up at her with a reassuring smile.  
"Of course. I'm a solider, remember?" John said warmly, closing his suitcase. Ariel returned his smile.

**XXXXXXXX**

"Be safe, yeah? I want you to return in one piece." Ariel said, giggling and giving John a goodbye hug. John returned it.  
"I will try my best." He said, smiling and pulling away from her. Sherlock held out his hand. John grabbed it and shook it.

"Travel safely John." Sherlock said in his usual even tone.  
"Will do, Sherlock." John said. Grabbing his luggage, John climbed in the waiting cab and was whizzing away to the airport a moment later.

Sherlock turned on his heels and headed in to 221b. Ariel slipped inside after him. Carefully following him up the stairs and into the flat, Ariel waited for him to say something. He looked... distraught, somehow.  
Ariel's phone vibrated in her pocket.

"Mind staying to keep an eye on him for me? -JW"  
"Considering I owe you, I will. -AH"  
"Thanks. You can have my room. Hope you can manage him. He can be a bit... strange sometimes. -JW"  
Ariel laughed to herself before replying.

"Thanks. I'm sure I will manage. -AH"  
Ariel pocketed her phone as Sherlock stomped back into the room.  
"What?" Sherlock asked, noticing she was staring at him.  
"Nothing." She said, putting an innocent smile on her face.

Sherlock looked at her for a second before saying,  
"John told you to look after me, didn't he?"  
Ariel stiffened a bit. She would never get used to the fact that Sherlock could look at her and know everything in the space of a heartbeat.

She nodded a reply to Sherlock. He shook his head and sighed.  
"I'm not a child. I don't need looking after." He mumbled to himself.  
"I'm sure John just wants to make sure you're alright." Ariel said sweetly, trying her hardest to make Sherlock...  _Comfortable_? around her.  _Was that the right word?_  She thought. Sherlock sighed loudly and stomped out of the room, muttering to himself.

This is just like dealing with a five year old. She thought. Except, unlike a five year old, Ariel couldn't just wrap her arms around him and tickle him till he cheered up. Ariel laughed out loud at the thought of tickling Sherlock till he couldn't breath. Sherlock looked up from his microscope to stare at her quizzically. She couldn't help but smile at the confused expression on his handsome face.

Maybe he doesn't know everything about me. She thought, still smiling stupidly. Sherlock rolled his eyes at her and went back to looking at whatever it was through his microscope.

Ariel made herself comfortable in Johns room before returning to the living room, relaxing on the sofa with her laptop. Sherlock was doing something in the kitchen, as there was the occasional clatter of dishes and the smell of... well, whatever it was, it smelled disgusting, but Ariel wasn't about to complain.  
All of a sudden, a loud BOOM! assaulted Ariel's ears as smoke wafted out of the kitchen. Ariel worriedly called out,

"Sherlock! Sherlock, are you ok?" She was heading toward the kitchen when he walked out of the smoke, slightly coughing.  
"I'm fine." He wheezed. Then as a bit of an after thought, he added, "But the kitchen might not be."  
Ariel laughed nervously.

"Should I call the fire department or the police?" Ariel asked. Sherlock put on a wicked grin.  
"I think poison control might be better." He said, a deep chuckle briefly betraying his rather serious face. Ariel smiled back.

"I'll help you clean up." She said, giggling in spite of herself, as she walked over to open the windows of the living room.  
"Thank you, Ms. Hunt." Sherlock said, turning a small fan on.  
"Please, call me Ariel." She said, trying ever so hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness of this whole scene.

Sherlock disappeared into the smoke filled kitchen and apparently opened the window in there as well. He came back over to Ariel holding a pair of googles and gloves, which he handed over to her.

"Here, you might want these." Sherlock said, putting on his own. Then he boldly headed back into the kitchen. Ariel smirked and followed.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlock sat on the sofa, eyes closed, deep in the labyrinth of hallways that was his mind palace. His explosion in the kitchen finally cleaned up, he relaxed as he began sifting through the vast knowledge he had stored there.

Ariel walked out of the recently cleaned kitchen, carrying a cup of tea. She smiled at Sherlock sitting in his mind palace. She made her way quietly over to one of the armchairs that occupied a spot in the living room. Ariel sat, enjoying her tea, occasionally stealing a glance at the magnificent man seated across the room. She let out a content sigh. Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

"How's everything? -JW" Must be a layover. Ariel thought.  
"Alright. Had some excitement, but we're good now. -AH"  
"Oh no, what did he do? -JW"  
"He just tried to blow up the kitchen. We're fine now, though. You should have warned me about his experimenting. -AH"  
"Oh, bloody... Slap him for me, would you? -JW"

"Will do. lol -AH"  
"Anything else happen? -JW"  
"Nothing interesting. How's the flight? -AH"  
"Good so far. Laid over in Kuala Lumpur. 3 hours here then we're off again. -JW"  
"Fun. How's Harry? -AH"  
"Alright. She's a bit of a wreck. The aunt that died was the one she lived with for 4 years when she went to uni. -JW"  
"Tell her I'm sorry to hear that. -AH"  
"She says thank you. I'm going to get some shut eye. -JW"  
"Ok. Good night. Text me when you land in Singapore. -AH"  
"Will do. -JW"

Ariel put her phone down to find that Sherlock was staring at her from his spot on the sofa. She shifted slightly in her chair, testing to see if he was actually looking  _at_  her or just  _through_  her. It turned out that he was doing the former. A quick grin flashed over Ariel's face.

"Hungry?" She asked. Sherlocks eyes darted away as he let out an affirmative noise.  
"Have you got anything in?" Ariel asked, slightly amused.  
"Ummm... No." Sherlock said, staring out the window. He was acting strange. Well, strange for Sherlock. Ariel dismissed it.

"Take away then? What do you want?" Ariel asked as she pulled out her cell phone, looking for a place to order take away. Sherlock looked at her, with an expression almost baffled. Had she just asked him what he wanted? It had been a long time since that had happened.

"Ummm...Chinese?" Sherlock said unsure. Ariel smiled and nodded, then rang up a Chinese place.

**XXXXXXXX**

The food had soon disappeared. Sherlock had eaten more than his fair share of the Chinese takeaway, which hadn't bothered Ariel all that much seeing as how he'd insisted on paying.

They were just starting to settle down for the night when a police car screamed down the street and stopped at 221b. Sherlock looked out the window just in time to see DI Lestrade hop out of the car and run up to the door of the flat. A moment later, he was panting slightly in the doorway, staring at Sherlock.

"Two bodies. Found in John Lyon Rec Grounds in Harrow. Come, please." Lestrade managed, catching his breath. Sherlock still stood by the window, looking disinterested.

"I'll follow. Not in the police car though." He said flatly. Lestrade nodded curtly and retreated back down the stairwell. When he headed the door shut, Sherlock spun on his heels and headed for his coat.

"You coming?" He asked, putting on his jacket. Ariel was slightly confused.  
"What?" She asked.  
"You wanted to work on cases with me, right? To prove yourself? Well, here's your chance." Sherlock replied heading out the door.

Ariel didn't even bother trying to put on her coat. She grabbed it and headed down the stairs after Sherlock. Not for the first time did she hear his baritone voice call out "Taxi!" as he stood on the edge of the street.

Sherlock was excited, she could tell. Her adrenaline was pumping too, as one word rang through her head.

 _Murder_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Leave me a comment telling me what you think!


	10. Murder

**Chapter X**

"One male, one female. Daniel Veloso and Tanya Service. Found about an hour ago." DI Lestrade recounted as he escorted Sherlock and Ariel to the bodies. Sherlocks air was cold and calculating, taking in every detail.

"By who?" Ariel asked, out of breath at the injectors long, brisk strides.  
"Grounds keep." Lestrade said curtly. They walked on in silent foot steps till they reached they bodies. The corpses lay, battered and bruise, completely lifeless. Sherlock gave a sideways glance to Ariel to see her reaction to the dead bodies. He remembered how John had first reacted to the body he'd seen with Sherlock. The look on his face then had been a combination of grief, pain, anger and sadness.

When Sherlock looked at Ariel to see her reaction, what he saw was quiet different from Johns reaction. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her mouth pursed somewhat, deep in thought. Sherlock smiled inwardly as the look on Ariel's face reminded him of his own. Sherlock went back to the corpses in front of him. He moved in to get a closer look.

The girl was Caucasian, 5'4", dyed black hair. Vomit stains covered her clothing, which was generally dirty and ragged, though they were designer names. Sherlock glanced at her hand; no ring, not even a mark where one might have been. Unmarried then. She had no purse, nothing that would be of any value on her. Robbed, probably.

Turning to the male victim, Sherlock noticed that he was in quite the same state. Designer name clothing, though it was filthy and covered in vomit, no valuables on him, but otherwise, he looked intact. He was about 6', of Italian decent. Sherlock noticed both victims were badly bruised and looked liked they had been extremely sick for before being killed. Yes, they had been killed. Poisoned, to be exact.

"Poisoned. Both of them. Dead for about, 6, hours. Higher class, judging by their clothing. A couple maybe? Definitely striped of anything valuable." Sherlock rambled. The Detective Inspector was obviously stunned.

"Poisoned? How? With what?" He asked baffled by Sherlocks quick deduction. Sherlock let out an annoyed sigh. People were just to stupid.  
"Yes, poisoned." Sherlock said exasperated. "All the signs are there." Lestrade just nodded, even though he had no idea what Sherlock was talking about. Ariel stood silently, gazing down at the dead bodies with intense interest. Sherlock noticed and called her closer.

"Care to give me your observations?" He asked. She blinked up at him.  
"I'm sure you could do better." She said, a hint of sarcasm entering her voice.  
"I would like to know what you can observe. Test your skills." Sherlock challenged her. Ariel never said no to a challenge, even when she knew she would fail.

"Ok," she said, crouching down by the bodies. "The man's Italian, the woman looks Russian. Poorly cared for clothes, even though they were expensive, designer. So they were rich, then. Valuables have been striped though, so they were robbed." Ariel breathed in heavily.

"The vomit and bruising suggest poisoning. The man was married; he's got a tan mark where his ring should be on his left hand. The woman wasn't though, so they weren't together. Or, at least, his wife didn't know about it.  
He also wore a heavy watch. Removed before the body was dumped. But it was not until recently that he started to wear it, because there is no tan mark where it should be on his right wrist and there is indentations still in his skin. A gift from her, maybe?"

"Excellent. Anything else?" Sherlock asked, genuinely pleased with her level of observation.  
"Yes. They were most like poisoned with Ricin. Injection, most likely." Ariel said, standing up and looking at Sherlock.

"How did I do?" She asked, a grin spread across her lips.  
"Wonderfully." Sherlock said, a tone of sincere commendation in his voice. "How do you figure they were injected with Ricin?"

"Small hole on each of their left arms, about the same place. Too perfectly round to be anything other then a needle. And Ricin? I've... I've seen these bruising and vomit patterns on victims of Ricin before." Ariel said, faltering in her words a bit near the end. Sherlock noticed that it bothered her to talk about the victims she had seen before, whilst she had no problem talking about the dead bodies in front of them. What had she done in her past?

"How...?" Lestrade's stunned voice came from behind them. Sherlock had almost forgotten the Detective Inspector was there.  
"So, they were murdered?" Lestrade said, finding his voice again.  
"Yes, obviously." Sherlock and Ariel said simultaneously. Lestrade looked between the two of them as they stared intensely at each other.

"Well... Any ideas who the killer is?" Lestrade asked, breaking the awkward silence. Sherlock blinked at Lestrade. He had no idea who had done it.  
"Unfortunately, Ricin is really hard to trace. It's incredibly common as it is derived from the seeds of the castor plant. Hundreds of thousands of people grow it. It's almost impossible to find out where the Ricin came from." Ariel said, sounding slightly defeated.

"It's not impossible!" Sherlock scoffed.  
"First off, we know it had to be someone these two people knew. Look at them; there's no sign that they struggled before being injected. Second, we know it had to be someone who could extract the Ricin from the seeds; that in itself narrows down the list of suspects drastically. Third, we know that the poison had to have been made in England because it doesn't keep long."

Ariel raised her eyebrows in amazement at the casual way Sherlock had stated these facts. She had carelessly overlooked them, dismissing these little details. She had been so focused on the negative, that she forgot about the shimmering positive. She looked down at her feet, ashamed.

"I apologize for my negligence, Mr. Holmes." Ariel said. Sherlock stared at her, brows furrowed, wondering what she was apologizing for. Lestrade, too, was staring at her.  
"It's fine. One can hardly expect you to have my level of observation." Sherlock said, trying to reassure her. Ariel took what she could get. She knew that was as close to "don't worry, you did good!" as she would ever hear from Sherlock.

Lestrade shook his head. To many weird things had happened today, he couldn't try to solve the mystery of these two.  
"So... Where do we start?" He asked. Sherlock turned to face him, a confident grin on his face.

"Lestrade, I need you to find out more about the victims. Family, friends, current residency, and the like." Sherlock said, heading away from the crime scene, Ariel at his heels.  
"Oh? And where are you off too?" Lestrade called after him.  
"Barton!" Sherlock called over his shoulder.

**XXXXXXXX**

After what seemed like an eternity of silently sitting in the passengers seat, Ariel was finally able to get out and stretch her legs. She had endured a two hour car journey with a strangely quiet Sherlock to the south coast town of Barton. She breathed in the slightly salty air, and listened to the gulls cry in the distance.

"Care to tell me why we're here?" She asked. Sherlock seemed to notice her for the first time.  
"Investigation. What else?" He asked, as if it were obvious. Ariel rolled her eyes as she followed after Sherlock as he walked towards a small bed and breakfast.

It was a beautiful little inn, surrounded by a luscious garden with stone pathways. The older-looking inn stood in the centre of the garden, a two story building with high arch windows and delicate stone work. A small pond was off to the right of the building, a chuckling little waterfall tumbling into it. All of this was not a 15 minute walk from the crashing waves and crying gulls. Ariel felt as if she had stepped into a little piece of paradise.

Sherlock stopped short of the door of the inn and turned to face Ariel. Ariel almost ran into him, stopping just short of crashing into the detective.  
"I need you to do the talking. I want to observe." He said, in a hushed and hurried tone. Ariel blink in confusion at him.  
"What do you want me to say?" She asked, not 6 inches away from Sherlocks face.

"Book a room. We may need to stay here a few days, to investigate. Chat up the innkeeper, talk about the customers, I don't care, but keep him talking." Sherlock said.  
"You... You want me to book us a room?" Ariel stuttered in disbelief. Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh.  
"Yes. We may need to stay here a few days. Didn't you here me?" He said, slowly and impatiently. Ariel suddenly snapped out of her disbelief and back to reality.

"Yes, of course I heard you. I was just making sure." She snapped, pushing past Sherlock and into the inn. She put on her best smile as she walked up to the innkeeper. The innkeeper was a stout woman, strong and with a slight look of exasperation on her face at the late hour that it was. When she saw Ariel's smile though, she returned it.

"Hello. Welcome to The Misty Way. What can I do for you on this wonderful night, love?" She said, leaning across the counter.  
"You don't happen to have a couple rooms available for me and my friend, do you? We could really use a place to stay." Ariel said, putting on her sweet tones and puppy eyes.

"Well, I've only got one room open tonight. But it's got two beds. Will that be alright for you two?" The innkeeper said pleasantly.  
"That would do just fine." Ariel said with a sweet smile. Pay back. Ariel thought to herself.  
"And who shall I put it under, love?" The innkeeper asked.

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said, stepping up to the counter and handing over his credit card. The innkeeper smiled and took it.  
"There you go, my dears. Here's your keys. Room 4. Up the stairs and to the left." The innkeeper said, handing over the keys. Sherlock grabbed them and stepped back. He tapped Ariel on the back of the leg, reminding her to keep the conversation going.

"You wouldn't happen to know where we could get something to eat? I'm so hungry!" Ariel said, playing up her hunger. The innkeepers grin grew wide.  
"Well dearie, let me tell you. Marcus cooks for us here and he makes the finest rack o' lamb you'll ever taste! And if you don't care for lamb, we got quiet the selection for you! Just sit yourselves down anywhere and I'll get Maggie to come over to you dears." The innkeeper said with pride.

"Thank you." Ariel said, blushing a little, to fill her role. Sherlock had been standing behind her and was now headed towards a little table on the far wall. Ariel followed him, although she wasn't sure why. She wanted to kick him so bad. Ariel plopped down in the chair and sighed heavily.

"Happy?" She asked.  
"For the most part." Sherlock answered with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Leave a comment!


	11. One to Many

**Chapter XI**

"What made you want to come here?" Ariel asked, trying a piece of the lamb she had ordered. She really had been hungry.  
"Receipt on the body. Was for here." Sherlock said, handing over the small piece of paper. Ariel took it and read it over.  
"5 nights? Must have been on vacation." Ariel said, stabbing another piece of lamb.

"Together apparently. Look at the receipt; two occupants, one room." Sherlock said.  
"And one bed, apparently. So they were sleeping together." Ariel said. A moment of silence ensued.

"Jealous wife could have done it. Would have had motive, and we don't know what he did for a living." Ariel said, breaking the silence.  
"Possible, but highly improbable. No, the wife didn't do it. Although I suspect she would have, if she'd known." Sherlock said, sipping a glass of deep red wine.

"I never took you to be a drinker, Mr. Holmes." Ariel said, trying to turn the conversation to find out more about the elusive detective.  
"I enjoy the occasional drink." He replied. Another moment of silence followed.

The inn was empty, except for three men sitting at the bar drinking pints of beer and talking loudly with one another and the bartender, who was laughing along with their jokes and conversation.

The minutes past as Ariel ate her meal and Sherlock sipped his wine. Their waitress, a young auburn-haired girl named Maggie, brought them a bill and Sherlock paid her. Ariel began to protest, but Sherlock said,  
"Forget it." His dismissive tone made Ariel close her mouth. She stared blankly at him for a moment.

"Well," she said, finding her voice, "I'll be off to bed then, I guess." Ariel got up to leave.  
"Mmm, I'll be up later." Sherlock said as he sauntered over to the gentlemen sitting at then bar. Ariel shook her head and retreated to their room.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel awoke the next morning and lazily opened her eyes. She stretched out her arms, but stopped short when one of them hit soft, warm flesh. She turned her head to get a better look at what was at the other end of her arm. Sherlock was passed out on her bed.

She blinked at him, inhaling as she did. The aroma hit her like a brick wall. He was not only passed out on her bed, he was dead drunk as well! Ariel sniffed the air.  
 _Whiskey, Aberlour 15_. She thought. He must have been drinking with the guys at the bar.

Ariel got out of bed and stared at Sherlock. He didn't stir, so she decided she would shower. When she stepped out of the bathroom half an hour later, fully dressed, Sherlock still hadn't woken up. Ariel went over and sat beside him on the bed. She looked down on him lovingly, pulling up the blankets. The poor man was so drunk he was still out cold at 11 in the morning. Ariel decided to let him sleep.

She walked over and sat in one of the chairs in the room, pulled out her phone, and texted John.

"How well can Sherlock hold his liquor? -AH"

"Pretty well. Why is he drinking at 11 in the morning? -JW"

"He's not. Just wanted to know how much I'm probably going to have to pay for his bar bill from last night. He's past out drunk on the bed. -AH"

"I leave for one bloody day... Listen, don't let him get a hold of any cigarettes. That will be the next thing on the list he'll go for. -JW"

"Don't worry. No cigarettes for him. I do believe the drinking was for his latest case though, so you can't blame him entirely. -AH"

"Oh? What's the case? -JW"

"Two Ricin poisoning victims. Of course, we're out looking for the killer. Sherlock believes the killer's in Barton after discovering a receipt in one of the victims pockets for an inn here. -AH"

"Here? You mean you two are in Barton? -JW"

"Unfortunately, yes. How's Singapore? -AH"

"Alright, I guess. Wish I was here as a tourist, instead of a funeral director and comforter for my sister. -JW"

"Yeah, I hear you. Hang in there, you'll be back soon. -AH"

"Thanks. You too. -JW"

Ariel put her phone back in her pocket. She wondered what to do about Sherlock. She stood up and walked over to him. Gently shaking his shoulders, she whispered,  
"Time to get up, sleepy head."

Sherlocks eyes slowly opened and he let out a low moan. Ariel walked over to the little bathroom sink and pour a glass of water. She walked back over to Sherlock and handed it to him.

"What... What happened last night?" He asked, stuttering.  
"I assume you got very, very drunk and somehow managed to make to the room before passing out on my bed.' She said, a light hearted giggle accompanying her words. Sherlock guzzled down the water.

"Thanks." He moaned, rubbing his eyes and handing her the empty glass. She set it on the bedside table. Silence followed his words.  
"Well, I'm going to go get something to eat. Join me when you feel like facing the day." She said as she smiled at him and headed for the door.

Sherlock heard the door click shut as he flopped back down onto the bed. His head was pounding and he felt like he was going to be sick. He hadn't had a hangover like this since uni. Eventually, he collected himself enough to get out of bed, straighten out his clothes and shave. He probably didn't need to do the last one, but he felt himself do it out of routine.

He stumbled out the door of the room and down the stairs to the little restaurant on the main floor. Ariel was sitting at the little table they had sat at last night, enjoying a muffin and reading the paper. Sherlock staggered over and seated himself opposite her. Maggie, the waitress from the night before, scurried over and asked Sherlock what he would like.

"Eggs and an orange juice. Scrambled." He said, feeling his head buzz. Maggie nodded and scurried off. Ariel folded the paper and looked at Sherlock.  
"You know you should have water, right?" She asked, cocking her head at him.  
"Yeah, whatever." He replied, placing his head in his hands. Ariel reopened her paper and began reading again. A few minutes later, Sherlocks food arrived.

He greedily gobbled down his eggs, even though he wasn't all that hungry. Ariel eyed him suspiciously, but he ignored her. Maggie wandered back over to clear Sherlocks dishes when he had finished, leaving the bill on the table. Ariel scoped it up while Sherlock downed the last of his orange juice.

Ariel had briskly walked over to the desk and paid the bill, half expecting the man behind the desk to turn to her and say,  
"Oh, and here's your boyfriends bar bill from last night." But much to Ariel's relief, those words never came. Sherlock joined her at the desk a few moments later.

"Feeling better?" She asked. Sherlock nodded mutely. He was beginning to feel a bit more like himself, though the hangover still clung to him.  
"Well, what now?" Ariel asked.

"We observe. We study. And we learn." Sherlock said. "I was thinking you could question some of the staff here, while I..." He was interrupted mid sentence by Ariel.  
"Try and sleep off this hangover." She said, a combination of seriousness and giggles. Sherlock glared at her.

"I was going to say, look over the information Lestrade no doubt sent me last night. There may be something useful in there." The stubborn and indignant detective said.

"But first, you really should get rid of that hangover. Clear your head. Meanwhile, I'll talk to some of the locals and staff." Ariel said flashing Sherlock a smile and then flouncing away. Sherlock headed up the stairs to the room, trying to clear his mind in preparation for the long and boring police files that awaited him.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel found a beautiful sunshiny spot in the inns garden to sit and enjoy the view. From here, she could observe people as they came and went in and out of the inn. She could even see through one of the windows just well enough to see the interaction between any customers and the woman who worked the front desk.

After about an hour of sitting there, watching and observing the people who passed by, a woman in designer clothes, who was obviously not a local, came in to the lobby of the inn. She talked briefly with the woman behind the desk, who soon disappeared only to reappear with the innkeeper whom Ariel had met last night. Ariel's interest was peaked as she watched the two women talking.

The higher class woman seemed to be thanking the innkeeper, who in turn seemed to be delighted that she was happy. Ariel noticed that the other woman was obviously quite rich, but also that she was of Italian decent. Maybe this was the victims wife?

Ariel climbed to her feet and casually walked into the lobby, passing the two women as she went.  
Their conversation went quite as she passed.  _Defiantly hiding something then._  Ariel though, approaching the woman standing behind the desk. By this time, the other two women had said their goodbyes and gone their separate ways.

Ariel asked the woman at the desk casually,  
"She doesn't look like she's from around here." Gesturing casually at the retreating back of the Italian woman. The receptionist shrugged and replied,  
"She's some Italian heiress or something. Started coming here a couple years ago." Ariel raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Really? By herself?" Ariel asked, playing up her surprise.  
"No, she sometimes comes with her husband." The receptionist said plainly and disinterested.  
"I see." Ariel mused. "Is she staying here currently?" The receptionist gave Ariel a strange look before replying,  
"Yes, she is." Ariel put on a large smile and thanked the receptionist. Ariel turned to head up the stairs to her room, accidentally bumping into a rather attractive inn worker.

"I'm so sorry." Ariel apologized, startled.  
"It's alright. No harm done." He said, smiling at her. She returned it.  
"The names Marcus." He said, sticking out his hand. Ariel shook it.  
"Ariel. I do believe that you cooked me some wonderful lamb yesterday." Ariel replied. Marcus laughed.

"That would have been me. Wish I would have know what a lovely girl it was going to though." He said. Ariel blushed.  
"Well, thank you." She said sheepishly.  
"Care to join me on my lunch break?" Marcus asked, extending his hand once again.  
"I'd love to." Ariel said, taking his hand yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? What do you think of Drunk Sherlock? Leave a comment and tell me!


	12. Blowing Off Steam

**Chapter XII**

Sherlock tried desperately to focus his throbbing head on reading the files on the computer screen before him. But it was incredibly hard for him to concentrate with this horrible hangover. Finally, he gave up and laid down on the bed.

As he slowly drifted out of consciousness, he thought back to the reason he was so hungover. Those three men at the bar last night, buying drink after drink,and gossiping about the rich Italian woman who was staying at the inn for yet another holiday.

"That pompous woman, I'll be she comes here just to look down on us normal folk." One of the men had slurred out last night.  
"Damn rich people, why can't they just stay in their mansions?" Another man complained over his sixth scotch.

Lady Nicola Làconi Veloso. That was the name the bartender had called her. Sherlock remembered one of the men mentioning that she had a husband. Another of the men commented loudly,  
"Yeah, where is the poor bastard? Probably on another of his business trips, hoping to get away from 'er!"

"Probably got a mistress somewhere." The third commented before going back to his drink.

All the pieces were coming together. Well, at least they were there to be put together. Sherlock slipped out of consciousness and into a blissful and light sleep.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlock was rudely awakened from his slumber by Ariel storming into the room, slamming the door behind her. Sherlock bolted upright as Ariel stomped into the room. Seeing the groggy looking Sherlock sitting upright in bed, her frustration melted away, replaced with a look of pity.

"I'm sorry I woke you." She said softly. Sherlock just rubbed his eyes and groaned in response. He closed his eyes and laid back down. After a moment, he opened one eye and looked over at Ariel, who was furiously rummaging through the small over night bag she had brought.

"What did Marcus say to you?" Sherlock asked, closing his eyes again. Ariel's head sagged as she let out a loud sigh and gripped the arm of the chair. She counted to five before she trusted herself to speak.

"How did you know?" She ask. Sherlock waved his hand dismissively.

"Simple. You're sexually frustrated, you smell of men's aftershave and you just had lunch, probably with the man whose aftershave you smell of." Sherlock said still lying on the bed. Ariel clenched her fists and turned around to face Sherlock. It took everything she had to not lunge at him and throttle him. She gave a wicked smile as she thought of how John would probably approve of her actions.

"Yes. I did have lunch with Marcus. I smell of his aftershave because I swear he bathes in it. And just for your information, I am not sexually frustrated, I'm just angry!" Ariel said, her voice raising dangerously close to a yell. Sherlock let out a low chuckle as her words faded to silence. Ariel turned around before she could kill him. A minute past in silence, Ariel counting in her head to sixty before turning back around and telling Sherlock about the Italian woman she had seen.

"Lady Nicola Làconi Veloso. Italian heiress. Comes here often for holidays, sometimes with her husband, but he is on a business trip planning to meet up with her here later this week." Ariel said, her voice even now.  
"Mmm, but he won't be, because he's dead." Sherlock said.

"Right. So this woman is the victims wife then?" Ariel asked.  
"Yes. And she's apparently having an affair with the chef you had lunch with." Sherlock said, opening his eyes and sitting up. He looked at a rather startled Ariel.

"Please. I could tell that was the reason you were angry when you came in. He told you he was having an affair with her. And you were jealous." Sherlock said, prodding at Ariel, just to see her reaction.

Instead of bursting out in angry like Sherlock expected, she recoiled a bit and straightened before coldly replying,  
"Why would I be jealous? He is, after all, an idiot." Sherlock had to admit he was rather impressed at her response and her self control. He had full expected to be bleeding from his nose right now.

"Anything useful from the files Lestrade sent over?" Ariel asked, turning the hose back on Sherlock.  
"Nothing useful so far." He replied, squirming a little. It wasn't a lie. But he'd only read the first 2 pages of information from Lestrade. Ariel let out a low sigh as she realized what he was actually saying.

"How long were you asleep?" Ariel asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. Sherlock blinked.  
"No idea." He replied. Ariel shook her head, still pinching her nose, and let out another sigh. She walked over and grabbed Sherlocks laptop which had been abandoned on the table in the corner of the room. She flung it open and stared blankly at the locked computer screen.

"What's the pass code?" She asked, anger bubbling up in her again. Sherlock rolled his eyes at her.

"Give it here." He said, holding out his hand. She hesitated a moment before handing it over. Sherlock furiously typed on his keyboard. Then he clicked and scrolled.

A minute of silence followed as he worked at his laptop. Ariel half expected him to hand the laptop back to her, but when he didn't, she wasn't surprised. Ariel settled back against the wall and just watched Sherlock read page after page of files. A good half an hour passed before Sherlock snapped his laptop shut and retreated into his mind palace. Ariel was still angry, and she stormed over shook him by the shoulders.

"Oh no! You may be able to leave John out of cases, but you can not leave me out of this!" She yelled at him. He stared blankly up at her, completely startled.  
"If you wanted the laptop, all you had to do was ask." Sherlock said evenly. Ariel sagged a bit as she realized she had over reacted. She snatched the laptop from Sherlock and flipped it open. Thankfully, it was unlocked.

Ariel scrolled through the seemingly endless documents that were cluttering the screen of Sherlocks laptop. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything she could see that was relevant to the case. She shut the laptop, putting her head in her hands. Today was not her day.

After a minute she looked up at Sherlock. His eyes were closed, fingers steepled under his chin, deep in his mind palace. Ariel realized he could be in there a long time, so she decided to go for a walk.

Pushing her way out the front door of the inn, she was hit by the heavy sea air. She stopped to revel in the beautiful freshness of the air. Ariel walked out of the inns garden and along the road. She had no idea where she was going, but she just wanted to walk. Marcus had told her about this great little coffee shop ten minutes down the road, maybe she'd go there.  _Marcus_. The name hurt to think about. Ariel dismissed it and kept walking.

She drew in breath after breath as her fast walk turned into a light jog. She stopped just short of the coffee shop. She sighed and decided a good coffee couldn't hurt.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlocks eyes blinked open. He was alone in the room. The remnants of sunlight shifted through the closed curtains. Thankfully, the hangover had lifted enough for him to think properly. He had a few things now that he could investigate.

Sherlock looked around the room. The golden glow of late afternoon sun pooled around the closed curtains. Ariel was missing, but that didn't surprise him. The room was tidy and comfortable, even though it was a bit small. The bed Sherlock was sitting on was a disaster, although the other one in the room hadn't even been touched.

All this information flooded Sherlocks mind. He blinked. When he had gone into his mind palace, it had been about 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Now, it was about 4 or 5. Had Ariel been gone the whole time? And if she had, where was she?  
Sherlock found himself worrying about her well being.

John had told him after all to look after her while they were on a case. "She's a  _woman_  and she needs you to be a  _gentleman_  and CARE, just a bit, about her safety." John had said, repeating and rephrasing the same idea more than a dozen times before leaving for Singapore. Sherlock had rolled his eyes and dismissed John several times before being forced to promise John he would take care of her.

Sherlock grabbed his phone. Opening it, he noticed a new text.  
"Hey. I'm just out getting a coffee and a walk. Be back later. -AH" Sherlock looked at the time stamp. 2:48pm. Sherlock looked at the current time. 4:54pm. She'd been gone over 2 hours. Sherlock considered briefly the thought that she might be in danger, but quickly dismissed it. She was a capable woman. She could take care of herself. But...  
Sherlock sighed. For Johns sake. He thought. He quickly typed and sent Ariel a text.

"Where are you? I have some investigating to do. -SH"  
The response was almost immediate.  
"Down in the lobby. Meet me at the front desk. -AH"

Sherlock smiled a bit. She was fine. Sherlock jumped up to grabbed his coat from the bed and clutched his head and stumbled back, head spinning. He had totally forgot about his lingering hangover.

**XXXXXXXX**

"So, what are we investigating?" Ariel asked as Sherlock strode up beside her.  
"The murder if two people." Sherlock said flatly. Ariel shook her head. That wasn't what she had meant.

"Where are we going?" She tried again. Sherlock had his back to the desk, watching people come and go.  
"We are not going anywhere. I am going to investigate. You are going to make dinner plans with Marcus." Sherlock said.

"What?!" Ariel croaked out. This was not going to end well for her.  
"Don't be an idiot. We need to ask him a couple questions about his lover. And you are a much better candidate for getting that information then I am." Sherlock looked at Ariel as he finished speaking.

Ariel saw something resembling resentment and displeasure.  _Good, he doesn't like this plan either._  Ariel thought. She let out a defeated sigh.

"Fine. Flirtatious or just friendly?" Ariel asked before she had really thought about what she was saying. She smirked at the completely confused and distressed look that Sherlock now had on his face.

"Never mind." She said, pushing off the counter, putting on her best smile and walking towards the kitchen.  
 _Here we go again_. She thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Still laughing at drunk Sherlock? Let me know what your thoughts are!


	13. The Catch

**Chapter XIII**

Sherlock sat on the opposite side of the room, seated so he could watch Ariel and Marcus having dinner. They were incredibly boring to watch, eating and laughing and talking. Dull. Sherlock noticed everything, every movement, every emotion. Ariel was not thrilled about having dinner with this man, nor did she try to hide her dissatisfaction from Sherlock, but as soon as she met up the Marcus, a mask of smiles and giggles covered her unhappiness.

She really was an actress, talking and giggling with Marcus in such a flirtatious and childish way that it was like watching someone else. Of course, Sherlock couldn't hear what they were saying. But he could tell from their body language that she was trying to flirt with him, and that he was reciprocating.

Sherlock was torn between a feeling of awe and one that closely resembled jealousy. He was impressed at how she could be so thoroughly disgusted with this man and yet act like she was completely enamoured with him. Yet, in the back of his mind there was a slight twinge, one that really didn't like her acting in such a way around another man. Sherlock couldn't figure out why he felt this way, so he simple shoved it away, detaching himself as much as he could from it.

As he scanned the room, he noticed the waitress, Maggie, standing at the bar looking forlorn and longingly at Ariel and Marcus.  _She must be in love with him_. Sherlock thought, another interesting piece added to the puzzle.

**XXXXXXXX**

"So why are you still with her?" Ariel giggled out over her meal. It was a forced laugh.  
"Because she's rich and beautiful. But not as beautiful as you." Marcus replied taking one of Ariel's hands in his. Ariel blushed. She pretended she believed him, but she knew better.  
"So, how long have you two been together?" She asked, pouring him a glass of wine.

"About a year now. I don't remember the exact date." He said, smiling up at her. Ariel returned it.  
"I see..." Ariel said, desperate to find some way to get the information she needed and leave as fast as possible.  _Relax_. She told herself.  _He won't bit_. The thought made her smile. Marcus laughed.

"Why so curious about my foreign lover?" Marcus asked, sipping his wine.  
"Just wanted to know about my competition." Ariel said with a suggestive grin.

They spent the rest of dinner talking about his hobbies, his restoration of old cars and his journey to becoming a chef. Ariel conversed patiently, slipping more and more alcohol into him. Finally, when he was so drunk he was starting to slur his speech, Ariel asked him who knew about him and the heiress.

"Maggie knows I've got myself a girlfriend." He slurred, "And that's she a married woman."  
"How long have you known Maggie?" Ariel asked, slightly surprised by his answer.  
"Since I came here. She's lived in this town her whole life. Knows it better then anyone." Marcus managed, hiccuping a couple times. Ariel's curiosity was peaked.

"Where does she live?" She asked.  
"Outskirts of town. On her family's farm. Or what's left of it anyways." Marcus slurred, the wine clearly taking his toll on his ability to function normally. After ten more minutes of conversation, Maggie came over to the table.

"I'm sorry guys, but we're closing up now. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." She said, her high voice simultaneously weary and firm. Marcus went to stand up, but was so drunk he fell right back down, chuckling.  
"Well, sorry Maggie, but it looks like I'm stuck here." He said.

Maggie's slight frame lent towards the muscular man and pulled him to his feet.  
"Not on my watch. Now lets get you home." She said firmly and friendly to the drunken man.

"Goodnight my dear." Marcus said to Ariel as Maggie towed him out of the inn. Ariel shook her head and looked over at the spot where Sherlock had been seated earlier. He was gone, although she didn't know why that surprised her. With a sigh, she headed up to their shared room.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel woke up to the bright sunshine streaking across her face. As she stretched, she half expected to find Sherlock in her bed again and was rather disappointed when he wasn't there. Rubbing her face, she reached over to her bedside table and grabbed her phone. There was a new text message from Sherlock.

"Gone out to investigate. Text if you need something. -SH" Ariel looked at the time stamp.  _9:37am_. Her text tone had been the reason she'd woken up 5 minutes ago. After a quick shower, Ariel decided to head downstairs to get something to eat.

As Ariel took her now usual seat, Maggie came over to her.  
"How was Marcus last night?" Ariel asked.  
"Really drunk. What did you do to him?" She asked, a brisk laugh humming in her throat. "I don't think I did anything." Ariel giggled back. Maggie then took her order and disappeared into the kitchen. Ariel sat, looking out the window when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

"Have you figured it out yet? -SH"  
"Figured what out? -AH"  
"Who the murderer is. -SH"  
"You mean you know who did it already? -AH"  
"Yes. -SH"

Ariel sighed and shook her head. Of course he did. He was Sherlock freakin Holmes. He was nearly psychic. What had she missed that he had noticed? What had told him all the facts he needed? Ariel's thoughts were interrupted by Maggie bringing her breakfast.

"Here you are." Maggie said cheerfully before turning to head back to the kitchen. Ariel picked up her phone and texted Sherlock.  
"Tell me what I missed. -AH"  
"No. You must learn to observe and deduce these things on your own. -SH"  
Ariel let out a frustrated sigh as she stabbed at her food.

"Fine. -AH"  
"Lestrade's on his way down here. You have 2 hours to figure it out before he says I have to tell you. -SH" Ariel grinned at that. She could only imagine the conversation that lead to Sherlocks text.  
"Ok. I'll try not to disappoint. -AH"

Ariel put down her phone and quickly finished breakfast. As she headed out, she bumped into Maggie, sending the sealed container in her hand tumbling to the ground. Bending to pick it up, Ariel apologized profusely.

"Oh no, don't worry. It's fine." Maggie said. Ariel handed the small container back to her.  
"What is that?" Ariel asked, trying to be nice.  
"Castor oil. I made it myself." Maggie beamed proudly. Ariel's interest was peaked again.

"How did you do that?" She asked.  
"I grew the castor plant on my family's farm. Then I just pressed the seeds with the old grape press and there you have it!" Maggie grinned, holding out the small container.

"What do you use it for?" Ariel asked.  
"Just about everything. I have tons of it. But this jars for my message class today. I'm learning how to be a masseuse." Maggie responded excitedly. Ariel smiled.

"Good luck with that." Ariel said genuinely.  
"Thanks! I've got to get going though. I can't be late!" Maggie said, turning on her heels and heading out the door. Ariel returned to her room. She had some new information to process, although she was pretty sure she knew the answer to Sherlocks question;  
Who had committed the murders?

Maggie. Red haired, fair, innocent looking Maggie had killed two people. How? With Ricin. A small injection in the arm of the distilled poison. After all, Maggie had admitted she grew and processed castor plants. Where? At her family's farm. No close neighbours, plenty of places to keep two dying people hidden. Why? Jealousy, of course, why else? She was in love with Marcus, when Marcus told her he was with a married woman, she wanted to get her out of the picture. She had infected the wrong woman by that time and the woman's lover, so to cover it up she dumped the bodies as far away as she could manage in one day without being suspicious.

Ariel had figured it out. Now there was only one way to be sure if she was right. She pulled out her phone and texted Sherlock again.

"Maggie, the waitress. -AH"  
A minute later, Sherlock texted back.  
"Good work, Miss Hunt. -SH"

Ariel knew they would be leaving as soon as Lestrade showed up, so she packed up her things and went to check out if the inn, the two hours coming to a close.

**XXXXXXXX**

"Good work guys. You deserve some rest." Lestrade said to Sherlock and Ariel, as Maggie was being driven away in a cop car. Sherlock scoffed.  
"We enjoyed quite a bit of rest already." Lestrade gave Sherlock an uncertain look. Ariel just grinned at the facial expressions Sherlock and Lestrade exchanged.

"We'll be on our way then." Sherlock said after a moment of relative silence.  
"Alright." Lestrade gave in. "Make it back to the flat without getting into any trouble, yeah?"  
Sherlock didn't answer Lestrade. Instead, he just walked away. Ariel shot Lestrade a sympathetic look and called over her shoulder as she rushed after Sherlock.

"I'll do my best."  
Ariel finally caught up to Sherlock at the rental car they had used to get down here in the first place.

"That was rude." She scolded, climbing in to the passengers seat.  
"He can handle it." Sherlock said, turning the key in the ignition. Ariel knew it was rather pointless to argue.

"When did you figure it out?" She asked.  
"Last night. She was watching you have dinner with Marcus. There was jealousy in her eyes." Sherlock responded, pulling on to the motorway. Ariel chuckled.

"How would you know if a woman looked jealous?" She asked, turning to look at Sherlock. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead of him.  
"I have seen jealous women before." He stated flatly. Ariel just grinned and looked out her window. She could tell there was more going on there, but she didn't want to push it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate it? Love it? Want to marry it? Let me know what you thought and leave a comment!


	14. Bored

**Chapter XIV**

"BORED!" Sherlock shouted as he flopped down into his chair, gun smoking in his hand. Ariel stood, hands on her hips in the kitchen doorway.  
"You know, you could do something other then blow apart the bloody wall!" Ariel said exasperated. Sherlock groaned, then raised the gun and shot blindly at the wall again.

It has only been three days since they solved the double homicide case. But since then, Sherlock had become increasingly...  
"Bored!" He yelled again, sending three more bullets flying into the wall, where a yellow smily face was painted on the wallpaper. Ariel sighed. She needed to find something to distracted him, at  _least_  for the afternoon.

"Would you put the gun down for just one minute?! Maybe then you could hear what I have for you." Ariel tried and was pleasantly surprised to find Sherlock staring at her inquisitively. He put the gun down on the coffee table.  
"Good boy." She said, smirking. Sherlock just rolled his eyes.

"Molly texted you and said she has a couple new cadavers in the morgue ready for experimenting, if you want to go over there." Ariel said, watching Sherlock. He perked up instantly, but a confused expression clouded his face a second later.

"Why were you checking my phone?" He asked, obviously annoyed.  
"Well, you weren't answering it." Ariel replied. A moment past as Sherlock mulled this over.

"Fresh cadavers?" He asked over his steepled fingers. Ariel nodded. Sherlock was on his feet, heading for the door, before Ariel could even blink.  
"The lets get going!" He said enthusiastically, tying his scarf on and bounding out the door. Ariel let out a small sigh and chased after him again. She always seemed to be rushing out the door of 221b after him.

**XXXXXXXX**

The morgue was quiet, although Ariel should have expected that. Really, Molly was the only living person there, with the exception of Sherlock and Ariel.  
Sherlock pushed open the large hospital doors to Molly's lab. Inside, a timid little Molly stood hunched over a microscope and a Petri dish, examining what looked like human flesh. Ariel cringed internally. She'd never get used to flesh not being on a human.

"Ah Molly, I heard you have a treat for me." Sherlock said, a friendly inflection in his tone. Molly looked up from her work to stare at Sherlock.

"Well, yes, I do. This way." She said, heading towards another door on the wall opposite the one Ariel and Sherlock had come through. Molly lead them down a small hallway and into a room much like Molly's lab, except instead of a table with equipment on it, this room had a long metal table in the centre and on top of the table was a dead man.

 _Late sixties, natural causes. He was heavy smoker._  Ariel thought as they approached the body.  
"Died of a heart attack. No one came to claim him, so he's yours." Molly said, a sad note to her voice. Sherlock walked around the body, observing every inch of the dead man. When his observations were complete, he returned to Molly and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Thank you Molly." He said with a smile and flounced out the door, presumably to get the equipment he needed to experiment. Ariel pinched the bridge of her nose.  _Well, at least he's not shooting the wall_. She thought. She looked up at Molly, who was staring blankly at the door.

"Is he always like this?" Ariel asked. Molly turned to her and smiled weakly.  
"Unfortunately yes." Molly replied.  
"I have to thank you. Your distraction saved me from having to explain any more bullet holes in the walls." Ariel said with a little laugh. Molly's eyes went wide.

"Is that what he was doing? Good grief!" She exclaimed, a giggle coming from her mouth. "Glad I could help. Coffee?"  
"Yes please." Ariel said, still grinning. Molly nodded and walked back out the door. She nearly ran into Sherlock as she walked into the hallway. Molly apologized profusely, but Sherlock seemed to preoccupied with his experiment to care.

Molly led the way down the hall way to a set of stairs. Ariel trailed behind her as the wound their way down the staircase and into another brightly lit hospital hallway. Down the hallway and through another set of hospital doors and there they were, in the Bart's hospital cafeteria. Molly led Ariel to the coffee machine and poured her a cup.

"Thank you." Ariel said as Molly handed her the cup.  
"You're welcome." Molly said, pour herself a cup. They made their way over to an empty table and sat.

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but, who are you?" Molly asked, obviously a little flustered. Ariel grinned and sipped her coffee before replying.  
"I'm babysitting Sherlock while John's away." Ariel said smiling and sipped her coffee again. Molly nodded and went quiet.

"What do you do here?" Ariel asked, breaking the awkward silence. Molly smiled up at her over her coffee.  
"I'm a pathologist. I study... Well, dead people." Molly said, dropping her head with a sigh.

"How interesting." Ariel said, giving Molly a warm and friendly smile.  
"How long have you known Sherlock?" Molly asked, avoiding eye contact.  
"About three months now. But I've known John for years." Ariel answered, thinking back to when she met John for dinner on that fateful night only a few months ago.

"Oh? How do you know John?" Molly asked, curiosity sparked.  
"He and my brother were friends in the army. We met when their platoon got sent home for Christmas one year." Ariel said, finding herself all of a sudden saddened by the memory of her brother.

Molly caught the pained look on her face, and gently asked,  
"He never came home, did he? Your brother?"  
Ariel shook her head and forced a smile.

"But his death brought me back into Johns life, and by extension, Sherlocks."  
Molly nodded, a pitying smile on her face. And at that moment, the cafeteria doors were flung open and in waltzed Sherlock.

"Ah Molly! I knew I'd find you here. Do you know where my microscope went? Or where they put my riding crop?" Sherlock said as he walked up to the table. Molly looked up, confused.

"They're in my lab. Didn't you see them?" Molly asked. Sherlock stared at her for a moment and the left without answering. As soon as he was out the door, Ariel turned to Molly.

"I'll take that as a no." She said. Molly and Ariel bursts out laughing.  
"So what will you do, now that he's experimenting?" Molly asked once they settled down.  
"Go shopping I guess. I haven't been able to leave him alone without him trying to blow up the flat, and I badly need to do the shopping." Ariel said with a sigh. Molly nodded mutely, a smile still plastered on her face.

"Well I'll try and keep him out of trouble for you." Molly said.  
"Thank you. You've no idea how much I'd appreciate that." Ariel said, standing and heading towards the door. Molly followed close behind.  
As they pushed their way out the door and into the main hallway, they nearly collided with DI Lestrade.

"Greg! What are you doing here?" Molly cried, obviously a bit flustered. Lestrades face seemed to echo Molly's.  
"Molly, good to see you. I was looking for you." He said, looking her over with obviously red cheeks.  _Now there's an interesting combo_. Ariel thought.

"Me?" Molly said, surprised.  
"Of course. Why else would I be here?" Lestrade said, regaining his usual cool composure. Molly still had a ways to go to regain hers though.  
"I...I don't know." Molly stuttered. Lestrade seemed to notice Ariel for the first time.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.  
"Preoccupying Sherlock so he doesn't blow up the flat. You?" Ariel ask, nonchalantly.  
"Sherlocks here? Great, kills two birds with one stone." Lestrade said and then winced. "Not literally." He said, amending his words with an apologetic look to Molly. She gave him a reassuring smile. Ariel, though, gave him a quizzical look.

"I need Molly and Sherlocks help with a new case." He said, pulling Molly under one of his arms as he spoke. Ariel smiled at the completely satisfied look on the girl's face.  
"Oh? And what case would that be?" Ariel asked.  
"Four bodies turn up, apparently all just died. Nobody can figure out why. But, I know if anyone can figure it out, it's these two." Lestrade said, pulling Molly in tighter. Molly's face went bright red.

"Stop it, Greg." She protested, wriggling to free herself. Lestrade just tightened his grip on her.  _Ok, now they're making me sick_. Ariel thought.

"Lestrade, you and Molly? Now that is something new." A baritone voice said from behind Ariel. She turned to see Sherlock looming in the hallway behind her. She smiled at him. Sherlock grinned at her.

"It  _is_  quite the development." Ariel said, turning back to Lestrade and Molly, who were both now beet red.  
"Where are the bodies now, Lestrade?" Sherlock asked. Lestrade was visible relieved that Sherlock was not trying to pursue a conversation on his personal life.

"They're on they're way to the morgue as we speak." Lestrade said. Molly was staring at her feet as if she had never seen them before. A twinge of sympathy ran through Ariel.  
"Good. Then lets get going. Shall, we?" Sherlock said with one of his devilish grins. With a turn of his heels and flourish of his coat, Sherlock was headed back down the hallway towards the morgue. Lestrade and Molly followed cautiously behind him, whispering to each other as they went.

"Well, have fun. I'm going to go do the shopping." Ariel called out after them. She scrunched her nose is disgust. They hadn't even included her. It was like she hadn't existed. She stormed off in the opposite direction and was almost at the end of the hall before she realized the exit she was looking for was at the other end of the building. Ariel sighed and turned around, walking down the hall, stomping towards the door. Just as she was about to reach it, Sherlock popped his head out from around the corned.

"Where do you think your going?" Sherlock asked, snapping on a pair of gloves.  
"Someone's got to do the shopping." Ariel grumbled. Sherlock cocked his head.  
"The shopping can wait. I need you." He said, giving her his most charming grin. A part of Ariel melted at that smile.

"What?" She asked, unsure she had heard correctly.  
"I would like your help, Ms. Hunt. You proved... quite useful last time." Sherlock said, still with a grin plastered on his face. Ariel put her hands on her hips as she responded.

"Very well then. I guess I could help. And please call me Ariel." Ariel and Sherlock let out a little giggle before retreating down the hallway to the morgue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Wish I would stop putting these notes at the end? Leave your options in the form of a comment please!


	15. Deduce

**Chapter XV**

"Four dead. No connection. At least no discernible one. But there must be something. Why did they die?" Sherlock mused out loud. He was studying one of the corpses laying on a table in the morgue.

Ariel and Lestrade were standing off to the side, watching Sherlock. Molly was scurrying around, collecting samples from each of the bodies and running multiple tests on them. After Sherlock studied another of the bodies for a few minutes he looked up at Ariel.

"Care to make your observations?" He asked over the dead man. Ariel jolted back to reality.  
"Of course." She answered, walking over to Sherlock and the dead man in front of him. Ariel studied the man for a moment.

He was an older man, maybe in his early fifties. Receding grey hair was plastered against his head. His skin was slightly pink, more pink then it should be.  _Odd_. Ariel thought as she continued to survey the man. She studied his head, leaning in close to his face. A faint smell of bitter almonds wafted up to great her nose. Ariel pulled back and looked down at the dead man, confused.

Without a word, she moved over to the next victim. Another man, though he looked to be about twenty five. Chocolate curls stuck out every which way as they fell to frame his blank face. Ariel studied him for a moment; pink skin. He was supposed to have been dead 2 hours now, approximately. His skin should be pale and white and... well, dead looking. But it wasn't, it was still pink. And the aroma of almonds clung to his mouth.

Ariel moved on to the next victim, a tall, blonde supermodel like woman in her late twenties. Beside her bleach blonde hair, the pink hue of her skin seemed a startling contrast. Ariel sniffed gingerly at her mouth; almonds, as she had now come to expect.

Moving the last victim, a young girl about 14 with fiery red hair and freckles, Ariel noticed the reoccurring signs; pink skin and the faint scent of almonds around the mouth. She stepped back and heaved a heavy sigh.

"Cyanide. They're cyanide poisoning victims." Ariel said, tearing her eyes away from the poor teenage girl who lie motionless on the table.  
"Excellent." Sherlock said, a proud smile creeping over his face. "How did you know?"

"The flushed skin. Cyanide prevents oxygen from leaving the blood and being absorbed into the cells, causing the skin to become red. Even hours after they have died from asphyxiation, their skin is still flushed. That, and the smell of almonds." Ariel replied. Sherlock nodded his approval.  _Another test passed_. Ariel thought laughingly.

"Molly...?" Sherlock asked, turning to the mousy pathologist who was pouring over a pile of lab results.  
"So far, cyanide is looking good. I mean, as the cause of death." Molly confirmed. "I'll have to run a couple more tests to make sure and to find out how much, but it looks like you've uncovered this one." Molly gave Ariel a friendly smile before dashing out of the room. Ariel was left to wonder what that smile meant.

"So, now we just need to find out what connects these four that would get them all killed." Sherlock stated, to know one in particular.  
"If they're cyanide victims, they could be suicides. I mean, it's not uncommon for people to use cyanide to commit suicide." Ariel said, then grimaced at her particular string of words.

"No, these weren't suicides." Lestrade interjected. "None of them were depressed or lead particularly stressful lives. Their friends and family's confirm that. None of them had made attempts on their lives before and there's no record of any of them purchasing cyanide in the last six months, though we are looking farther back now."

"So, murder then." Ariel said, turning back to the dead teenage girl. "Serial killer?"  
"Oh, those are the best kind!" Sherlock said, clasping his hands together in front of his face, excitement flooding his face. "Always something to look forward to."

Ariel glanced up from the dead girl in front of her to glare at Sherlock. Lestrade gave Sherlock a disgusted look.  
"What?" Sherlock asked innocently, looking like a 5-year old who didn't know what he'd done wrong. Lestrade just shook his head.

"I'm going to go check on Molly." He said before leaving the room. Sherlock turned back to Ariel, who was still glaring at him over the dead girls corpse.  
"What?" He asked again.

"Could you tone down your excitement just a wee bit? There are four dead people in this room who were murdered for no reason." Ariel said, dangerously calm. Sherlock just rolled his eyes and huffed, but remained silent.

A few minutes later, Lestrade and Molly came back into the room. Though they had entered the room quietly, Ariel and Sherlock had heard them giggling together in the hall outside a few minutes before. Ariel saw Sherlock glance at Lestrade as he entered the room, but Lestrade ignored the look.

"Test results are back. Definitely cyanide." Molly said, glancing over a sheet of test results attached to a clipboard.  
"Good, confirmation." Ariel said. Sherlock turned and walked towards the door. He paused for a moment and turned to Lestrade.

"Give Ms. Hunt the profiles. I'll need to know everything you can get on the victims." Sherlock said. Before Lestrade could respond, Sherlock was out the door. Lestrade looked at Ariel with a sigh.  
"Come on. I'll get you those files." He said.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel read over the victims profiles. They confirmed details she had already known. For instance, Ariel had guessed the right ages for the victims, she knew their approximate heights, weights, hair and eye colours.

She also had observed little facts about them, like that the curly headed man was a musician or that the tall blonde lady had a breast implant. The profiles that Ariel was studying in the back of the taxi on her way to 221b Baker Street confirmed all of this. And what she learned didn't really surprise her.

The older fellow was a plumber, had a wife and two sons and a brother who lived in France, though he himself lived in Kingston.

The tall blonde lady was twenty nine, was a model, and lived with her boyfriend in a flat across from the Sudbury Golf Course.

The curly headed man had only been twenty six for two weeks, was single and living in his parents basement, trying to make a living with his cello while working as a barista at a local cafe.

Ariel reviewed all of this, hoping secretly to make it back to the flat before she had to look at the teenage girls profile. But to her dismay, she was not back before she reached it. For some reason, the death of this poor girl troubled Ariel. There was a sense of dread in Ariel's chest as she flipped open the girls profile. A tear slid down Ariel's cheek as she read it.

Abusive, alcoholic father. Died when she was five. Lived with her mother. Trouble at school. Bullied. But her life was turning around. There was a picture of her and her mother, smiling as she held up a gold medal with her name on it. She had won something in track and field.

There was another picture of her playing a violin, with a group of about 200 people watching and listening. Another picture of her and her mother, both of them smiling. They seemed so happy. And now, now she was gone. Ariel wiped the tears from her cheeks.

She would find out what happened to this girl. Even if it killed her. Ariel climbed determinedly out of the cab. She had to find out who killed this girl. For some reason, it touched her deeply.

Ariel ascended the stairs to 221b, and the world seemed oddly different. It was slightly colder then Ariel remembered. She walked in without knocking. Sherlock was sitting on his chair, feet tucked beneath him and hands steepled in front of his face, thinking.

Ariel didn't even give him a second look. She just walked in, put the files on the table and went to the kitchen to make tea.  
"Discover anything worth while?" Sherlock asked from his spot in the living room. Ariel was surprised he had even noticed her.

"Nothing you didn't already know, I believe." She said, pouring two cups of tea. She careful carried them into the living room and put Sherlocks down on the table next to him. Sherlock continued to stare into blank space.

"Hmmm." He hummed, continuing to think. Ariel sipped her tea and just watched his mind work. Her own thoughts wandered back to the teenage girl and she had to force herself to think of something else, lest she cry, and in front of Sherlock.

The flicker in her emotions seemed to catch Sherlocks attention, but she carefully had hidden it away before he could figure out what it was she felt.

"Was there anything linking any of them?" Sherlock asked after a moments consideration.  
"The younger man and the young girl were both musicians. They all lived in or near London. And the two men went to the same elementary school, though years apart. Aside from that, there was nothing I could glean from it." Ariel said. Sherlock picked up on a slightly defeated tone in her voice as she said the last sentence.

Sherlock grinned and forced himself up onto his feet. He walked over and gingerly picked up the files. Flipping through them, his face fell into a frown. The more he read, the harder he frowned until finally, he threw down the folders in frustration.

"There's got to be a connection! There has to be!" He yelled angrily at the wall, running his hands into his hair. Ariel just sat there, stunned and staring at him.

For the next several hours, Sherlock re-read the files and then re-read them again, until he had memorized every fact, every detail provided about these people's lives. And then he would blow up in frustration as nothing seemed to connect. It was an elaborate connect-the-dots game, but there were no numbers and the dots were blurry.

Sherlock sat down after pacing the room for the an hour, tapping the arm of his chair impatiently. He seemed to notice Ariel sitting in the chair across from him, wide awake and staring at him curiously. Just as Sherlock was about to ask her what she was looking at, his phone rang. Sherlock scrambled to get it, knocking over his now cold tea in the process. He mentally cursed as he picked up the phone.

"Hello Lestrade." Sherlock answered, a bit annoyed.  
"Hey Sherlock. I just got back from questioning the victims families. I thought I'd send you an email with all the final data now. Find anything useful in the files I sent over with Ariel?" Lestrade said cheerfully on the other end of the line.

Sherlock wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him. Lestrade hadn't mentioned the case files were incomplete. And he had sent Sherlock nearly over the edge trying to figure it out without all the facts.

"That would be excellent." Sherlock said through gritted teeth. "I don't know that I have." Sherlock hung up before Lestrade could ask what he had meant. Ariel glanced at Sherlock from her chair, an amused grin in her face.

"Having fun?" She asked mischievously.  
"Starting to." Sherlock replied annoyed. He looked down at his spilt tea.  
"Better clean that up." Ariel giggled out. Sherlock scowled at her, but headed to the kitchen for a towel to clean up his mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to know what you think! Do you love it? Do you hate it? Are you mad I keep asking the same things at the end of every chapter? Feel free to tell me!


	16. Blue Tie

**Chapter XVI**

"You knew." Sherlocks statement permeated the silence that had clung in the poorly lit room. Ariel stared at him, wondering what he possible could have meant. Sherlocks face was lit up by the screen of his laptop, the blueish light making him look ghostly.

"What?" Ariel asked, deciding it was only polite to ask.  
"You knew the files weren't complete, yet you elected not to tell me." Sherlock stated, still focused on the computers screen. Ariel felt the smile appear on her face.

"Well now, surely I couldn't have known about that." The sarcastic tone oozing in her voice. Sherlock made no comment. After a few moments of silence, Ariel thought she should apologize.

"You know, I just wanted to see if you could do it. Without the extra stuff, I mean." She sighed and looked down at her lap. Sherlock was silent still. Then he shifted in his chair and brought his eyes up to met Ariel's.

"One cannot find the answer to life's mysteries without first having all the facts." He said, his low baritone rippling through the silence. His tone was almost... comforting. Ariel watched as Sherlock returned to his normal thinking position.

"So, what now?" She asked. Sherlock cocked his head at her, and she bit back a laugh.

"I need to think." He said, snapping the laptop shut and putting it on the floor. Sherlock then steepled his fingers and closed his eyes. Ariel sighed.

"Alright. I'm going to bed then." She said, getting to her feet and glancing at Sherlock as she walked away. She had a feeling he wouldn't even notice she'd gone. Ariel climbed the stairs to the now familiar room she had been staying in. She scurried inside and shut the door behind herself.

Ariel took her phone out of her pocket and searched through her contacts for a number. When she found it, she dialled it and waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello, Ms. Hunt." A mans voice greeted her ears. "Any news?"  
"Yes, sir." Ariel said quietly into the phone. "Quadruple homicide. He's investigating it now."

"Good. Keep him busy." The man on the other end of the line said.  
"Yes, sir." Ariel said. She hung up.

She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes, suddenly feeling weak. A single silver tear ran down her cheek.

**XXXXXXXX**

"Morning." Ariel called brightly as she made her way to the kitchen. Sherlock was still sitting in his chair, exactly where she'd left him last night. He sat there, not making a sound. Ariel didn't even bother trying to get his attention, instead deciding that making herself breakfast was a better idea.

As the toast popped out of the toaster, and Ariel reached for it, Sherlocks voice rang thought the flat.

"Morning? It's morning already?" He asked. Ariel walked out of the kitchen, toast in hand, and leaned against the doorframe.

"It most certainly is morning. Well, if you think of five o'clock as being morning." She said, smiling at Sherlock before taking a bit of her toast. Sherlock stared at her with a confused look.

"Why are you up so early?" He asked. This was not like her.  
"Couldn't get back to sleep." Ariel said flatly, making herself comfortable in the chair opposite Sherlock. He gave her a questioning glance which she ignored. Sherlock shrugged it off and went back to his mind palace.

"So, what are the plans for today?" Ariel asked from the kitchen several minutes later. She was washing her dishes.  
"Hmm? Oh yes. We're going to do some investigating." Sherlock said, hopping up off his chair and flinging himself at his violin.

He picked it up and started to play a merry tune, one that sounded of excitement and adventure. Ariel walked back over to the doorframe dividing the kitchen and living room and just watched Sherlock dance around the room, violin in hand, giddy as a school boy.

A smile playing at Ariel's lips. Sherlock ended his song short. He turned to Ariel, excitement dancing in his eyes, and yet again he was rushing for the door.

"Ready?" He asked, tying up his scarf.  
"Always." Ariel said smiling, completely ready to start the day.

**XXXXXXXX**

After a brief visit to Scotland Yard, in which Sherlock yelled at Lestrade for not informing him the files were incomplete and Ariel and Lestrade laughed together behind Sherlocks back, the two arrived at a rather rundown looking block of flats.

"Where are we?" Ariel asked, clinging closer to Sherlock as they walked down the dingy street.  
"The East End." Sherlock said, a hint of distaste in his tone. Ariel looked at her surroundings.

Normally, she felt she could handle anything, but in this place she felt as though the buildings had eyes. It unnerved her.

"Why?" She asked.  
"Investigation." Sherlock reminded her, as if she had forgotten. Ariel rolled her eyes.

"Really? I thought we were here for a good cuppa?" She said, sarcasm lacing her voice as she let out a barking laugh. Sherlock glared at her from the corner of his eye, but didn't reply. They walked on in silence.

Ariel's mind began to wander.  _What was he thinking about? Had he figured it out? Did he know who the killer was?_  Ariel preoccupied her mind with these thoughts until Sherlock stopped abruptly in front of a skateboarding park.

He just stood on the edge, watching the boarders make their way from one end to the other, doing all sorts of tricks as they went. Ariel stood in wonder of these boarders for a moment, then realized Sherlock had not stopped to appreciate their skills. He was looking for someone.

"Who are we looking for?" Ariel asked quietly, so as not to be overheard.  
"I don't know yet, but I'll know him when I see him." Sherlock answered, in an equally hushed tone. Ariel accepted his answer with a small nod and then stared back out at the melee of boarders, graffiti and concrete.

"Right. Well, I'm going to get a coffee. Want one?" She asked, noticing a coffee stand on the other side of the park.  
"Ummm. Coffee. Black, two sugars." Sherlock said distantly.

Ariel shook her head and walked over to the barista selling coffee. She was a tough looking woman, young but fierce, with a friendly smile and a threatening shape in her left pocket.

"What can I get for ya?" She asked Ariel, her voice ruff.  
"Two coffees. Black please." Ariel said pleasantly, then forked over the money to the barista who handed her two cups in exchange. Ariel dressed the coffees with sugars and cream appropriately.

She glanced in Sherlocks direction to see if he had moved and indeed he had. He was now down in the park, talking to a group of three teenagers. One of them, a female, was holding a board in her hands. The other two, one male and one female, were holding each others hand.

From what she could see, board girl was being questioned by Sherlock, while the other two were to caught up in their ogling of each other to notice much else. Ariel walked over to them, expecting to hear Sherlock berating the girl for her ignorance or something. Instead, she heard him say,  
"Come on, Sam, do you know where I can find him or not?"

"I'm afraid not Sherlock. Last I heard, he was on the run from another theft charge." Board girl, or Sam, said.

"Well thanks for the help. Call me if you find out where he is, please." Sherlock said, looking genuinely grateful to the girl before turning away and nearly knocking a wide eyed Ariel over. Sherlock mentally cursed.  _Why did she always seem to be right behind him?_

Ariel silently handed him his coffee and then walked back to the edge of the park. Sherlock followed swiftly behind her, after saying goodbye to Sam.

"Who was she?" Ariel said, not making eye contact with Sherlock but instead sipping her coffee and watching the flow of boarders one the concrete.  
"One of my contacts." Sherlock said plainly before taking the first sip of his coffee. Ariel had made it perfectly, yet again. Ariel nodded at his answer, but kept quiet.

"Sam knows the back streets of the East End better then anyone. She also happens to know a man with a particular skill set which I would have liked to employ. But it seems he is yet again running from the police." Sherlock said, distaste and his usual cold tones penetrating the words.

Ariel nodded again. It made more sense now. And she felt more relaxed now. For some reason, seeing Sherlock with the young girl had made her... tense? Jealous? She wasn't quite sure. But whatever it was, it had left now that she had an explanation. She took a deep breath.

"So are we done here then?" She asked, turning to face Sherlock. His blue-green eyes met her icy sapphire ones.  
"Not yet." He said quietly. He stared out at the park one last time, at the chaos that was boarders and graffiti, concrete and wheels, helmets and 45 degree angles.

He was searching for someone and he had apparently found the person. Sherlock stepped briskly over to the man standing not to far away from them, gathered in a group of others helping a young man to his feet. Sherlock tapped his man on the shoulder, causing the other man to whip his head around. He let out a low chuckle.

"Sherlock Holmes. Never thought I'd see you again." He said, turning around to face Sherlock. Ariel stood just behind Sherlock, ready to fight off the man if necessary. But the man put out his hand and Sherlock shook it.

"Nice to see you too, Owen." Sherlock said, a cold tone inflicted on otherwise kind words. Owen sighed. Ariel was confused again and she cleared her throat to remind Sherlock she was still there. Owen looked around Sherlock till he spotted Ariel.

"Oh, my apologies. Ariel, this is Owen McPhail. Owen, this is my colleague Ariel Hunt." Sherlock introduced the two. Ariel blushed a little at being called Sherlocks "colleague", but other than that made no mention of it.

"Nice to meet you." Ariel said, shaking Owens hand.  
"Likewise." He said to her before turning his attention back on Sherlock. "What is it you need?"

"You're better at tracking down where someone could get something illegal then Scotland Yard. I need you to find out where a someone could get cyanide from." Sherlock said flatly. Owen chuckled.

"True, that bit about being better then Scotland Yard. But why do you need me to find it?" He asked, eyes twinkling.

"Because you will get paid for it." Sherlock said calmly, handing over a small wad of cash. Owen looked at it, then grabbed and pocketed it.  
"Deal. What exactly am I looking for?" He asked.

"Anywhere someone could get enough cyanide to murder four, possibly more people." Sherlock said in a hushed tone.  
"Well, that narrows it down a bit, mate, but there's still lots of places to get the stuff. Anything else you can give me?" Owen said. A smile crept over Sherlocks face.

"Blue tie." He said. Owen nodded, grin now plastered on his face and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Comment and subscribe!


	17. Rabbits on the Moon

**Chapter XVII**

"What the hell was that all about?" Ariel asked, nearly exploding with frustration as her and Sherlock walked away from the park and back towards the block of flat they had started at. Sherlock gave her a quizzical look.

"What was what?" He asked, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Ariel was not interested in playing his games.  
"What does "Blue Tie" mean?" She fumed. Sherlock chuckled to himself, only aggravating Ariel more.

""Blue Tie" is code." He responded, deliberately not answering her question. Ariel paused for a moment, took a deep breath and asked,  
"For?" Sherlock stopped and smiled at her. But he remained silent until they continued walking.

"It's code for sodium cyanide. It was what the victims were poisoned with and it will help narrow down Owens search." Sherlock said. Ariel nodded silently beside him, feeling incredibly stupid.

When he laid it out so plainly, how could she have missed it? But, of course, he was Sherlock Holmes. Worlds greatest know-it-all. He could make Stephen Hawking and Albert Einstein look like complete fools.  _Except he didn't know the Earth went around the sun_. Ariel thought, laughing inwardly.

Sherlock had hailed a cab by now, and Ariel climbed in in silence.  
"Would you like to know why I used code?" Sherlock asked, braking the silence that had enveloped them in the back of the cab. Ariel just nodded, not taking her eyes off the scenery that was sweeping by.

"First of all, there were others within earshot that could easily have been eavesdropping on our conversation. Anyone of them could have been working for our murderer. Second, it..." Sherlock trailed off as his concentration shifted to a person walking on the side of the road.

They were parked at a particularly long traffic light, so Sherlock had more than enough time to study the man. As the cab pulled away, Sherlock jolted back to the here and now.

"Where was I?" He asked, blinking back to the cab.  
"Why rabbits fly on the moon." Ariel said, completely deadpan. Sherlock looked at her utterly confused. Ariel's eyes turned to meet his, and when they saw the look on his face, she burst out laughing.

This just made Sherlock more confused. When Ariel had calmed down, she looked at Sherlock, eyes glittering from laughing and a wide smile on her face.

"Never mind." She said, with a slight giggle. At that particular moment, her phone vibrated in her pocket. Whipping it out, she checked the number. John. She didn't even bother to tell Sherlock, he was reading for himself who it was.

"Hey. All well? -JW"  
Ariel quickly thumbed out her reply.

"Yup, just the usual. Trying to solve a quadruple homicide. No biggy. -AH"  
Johns reply was fast.

"Ha, have fun. And good luck. -JW"  
"Trying to. What's up? -AH"

"Just wanted to check in to make sure you two were still alive. -JW"  
"We are. For the moment, that is. - AH"

"I have to go. Be safe. - JW"  
"Will do. You too. -AH"

"Why are you ordinary people so sentimental?" Sherlock asked, as Ariel slipped her phone safely back into her pocket.  
"Because we care, Sherlock, that's why. It's not a flaw, you know." She replied, returning her gaze out the cab window. Sherlock thought up a snarky remark, but decided against it.

"Caring is not an advantage." Sherlock mumbled, quoting his brother. Ariel turned to look at him and what Sherlock saw in her eyes made him confused and scared.

He saw pity. Ariel pitted him. But why? A jolt of fear ran through Sherlock as he wondered if she knew why he was so cold and distant. Ariel looked as though there were a thousand things she wanted to say, but she only said in a low voice,  
"It's not a disadvantage either."

The whispered words were kind, reassuring. If she didn't know his secret, she could obviously see the pain in his face. Ariel placed a hand on his knee and smiled up at him, kindly, understandingly. Sherlock didn't try to remove her hand. Ariel turned back and watched silently out the widow for the rest of the cab ride.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlock bounded out of the cab, glad to be freed of the cage that was the backseat. Ariel went to climb out of the cab but Sherlock stopped her.

"I need you to go to Scotland Yard. Lestrade has some people there for you to interview, for me." Sherlock said hurriedly. Ariel raised her eyebrow.  
"And where are you going?" She asked.

"I have a few errands to run." Sherlock said with one of his deceivingly charming grins before closing the cab door and strutting away. Ariel shook her head as the cab pulled away.

She wondered if she had overstepped her boundaries with him. She didn't know why he was the way he was, but she felt certain that he had not always been like this. So cold and emotionally distant. Something must have happened to him, but Ariel felt it would be rude to ask. If he wanted her to know, he would bring it up and in his own time.

But Ariel couldn't help the giddy feeling that race through her at the simple touch of her hand on his knee. Why did it make her heart flutter like a school girl? Could she really be developing feelings for this man?

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel stumbled though the door of 221b. It was early evening, the sun just dipping to met the line of the horizon behind the skyline of London. The flat was quiet, dark and empty. Sherlock hadn't come home yet. Ariel pulled out her phone, worriedly texting the detective.

"Where are you? -AH"  
Ariel walked farther into the flat, setting down the shopping she had picked up on her way home. Her phone vibrated as she slid the milk into the fridge.

"On my way home now. Will be there in 10 minutes. -SH"  
 _Good, he hasn't gotten himself into trouble._  Ariel thought, a smile appearing on her face. The detective did seem to have a knack for getting into trouble anywhere he went.

Exactly 8 minutes later, a rather excited looking Sherlock walked into the flat.  
"So, what did you get up to today?" Ariel asked casually, poking her head out of the kitchen.

Sherlock was busily digging through a pile of papers, tossing them this way and that. He paused for a moment, considering where else to look before dashing over to the bookcase and riffling through that. Ariel let out a disappointed sigh as she knew her question wouldn't be answered.

A moment later, Sherlock smiled as he thumbed through the pages of a book. Ariel glanced at the cover. " _The Basic Science of Poisons_ ". She smiled. Sherlock must have found something related to the case in his time away from home. He was mumbling to himself as he flipped through the pages.

Suddenly, he snapped the book shut, producing a small jump from Ariel. He smirked at her as she gave him a dirty look.

"Ready?" He asked, still smirking.  
"For what?" Ariel asked.

"To catch a murderer?" Sherlock asked excitedly. Ariel grinned up at him.  
"Always." She responded. Together, they once again dashed out the door of 221b.

**XXXXXXXX**

"Care to tell me what's going on?" Ariel asked, yet again in the back of a cab.  
"Hmmm?" Sherlock hummed. Ariel sighed as she realized he was distracted. Again.

"Did you find where the killer got the poison?" Ariel asked slowly.  
"Yes. Next question." He said, looking out the window.  
"Are we going there now?" She asked.  
"No. Next." Sherlock said.

"Do you know who the killer is?" Ariel asked hopefully. Sherlock turned to face her, eyes glittering excitedly.  
"Yes." The word rolled off his tongue like he had reluctantly let it go. His baritone voice coupled with his deep blue-green eyes staring at her sent shivers down Ariel's spine. Why was she enjoying this so much? Ariel realized she probably looked completely starstruck, so she quickly looked out the window.

"So... Who is it?" Ariel asked cautiously, peeking over at Sherlock. He was gazing out the window. He turned his head, looking at her with a small smile. It looked like it meant "Its ok". That gave Ariel a little more courage and she smiled weakly in return.

"You don't know?" Sherlock said smugly.  
"Not all of us are highly function, sociopathic geniuses." She said sarcastically, starting to giggle. Sherlock joined in with a deep chuckle. As the cab pulled up to the curb, the laughter died away.

"So, are you going to tell me?" Ariel asked as she climbed out of the cab behind Sherlock. He paid the cabbie before replying.  
"If you are really such an idiot that I must tell you." He said with a disappointed sigh. Ariel just gave him a look, waiting for him to continue.

"I guess I shouldn't have assumed you would know, as you don't have all the facts." Sherlock said, starting to walk away for the curb.  
"Mmm, but I can't blame you for trying." Ariel said, remembering her earlier actions. Sherlock smiled, which made Ariel feel accomplished.

"Just wait and see." He said. They walked quickly down the street. Cars drove by as the sun began to shoot oranges and reds across the sky. The London street was bustling, as workers returned home after a long day at their jobs. People, just going about their daily lives.

Sherlock had taken a turn down a back alleyway, leading Ariel farther and farther away from the busy London Street. The musty smell of stagnate water wafted to greet them. Ariel felt slightly ill at ease. Something was off, odd, out of place, even for a back alley of London.

All of a sudden, a gun fired several shots in their direction. Sherlock grabbed Ariel by her arm and dragged her behind one of the large garbage bins. Cautiously, he peaked his head around the bin, causing the gunman to fire several more shots at them.

Ariel's heart was racing. She had experienced a lot of things in her life, but being shot at was not one that she had cared for. Her ragged breathe panted between her parted lips. Several more shots were fired before an eerie silence set in. They sat there, waiting. They waited for what seemed like hours before Sherlock poked his head out from behind the bin once more.

The shooter had fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Ready for more? Leave a comment!


	18. Shot and Shot Again

**Chapter XVIII**

Sherlock stood up and dusted himself off. The coast was clear, but the shooter was gone.

"Hurry up! We can still catch him!" Sherlock yelled at Ariel. He stole a quick glance at her, and he was surprised by what he found, to say the least.

Ariel was huddled in a little ball behind the bin, trying to be as small as possible to hide from the shooter. Her skin was pale, paler then usual. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated. Her hands were thrown above her head, covering her neck.

"Are you ok?" Sherlock asked, for the first time unsure of what to do.  
"Yeah, I'm fine." Ariel said, forcing herself to her feet and putting on a smile. Anyone with half a brain could see she was scared; her body's reaction betrayed that. But something in Sherlock admired the fact that she could push it aside and courageously go on.

"Lets go then." He said, leading them back out of the alley. A few minutes later, they arrived back at the bustling London street.  
"Why did we even go in there?" Ariel asked, heart rate and breathing almost back to normal.

"Because I was reliably informed that the murderer there." Sherlock said before stepping out to hail a cab.  
"Turns out you were right." Ariel muttered under her breath. As a cab pulled up, Sherlock opened the door for her. She climbed in and stared out the window as Sherlock followed her and close the door behind himself. A few minutes passed in silence as the drove. Finally, Ariel broke the silence.

"Who is the murderer?" She asked, still avoiding eye contact with Sherlock. He smiled to himself before answering.

"His name is Sylvain Riker. He and his brother run their deceased fathers jewellery shop in Islington. That's where he got the poison. Potassium cyanide is often used to clean gold, which the shop deals excessively in. Now, why kill four completely unrelated people? Simple really. Because Sylvain is part of a gang. The Clerkenwell crime syndicate, to be specific. Why those four though? Once you hack into their mobiles, it becomes all to easy. Drugs. They all owed the gang money for drugs. So, take them all out, send a message to all that the Clerkenwells are just as powerful as ever and there you have it, a quadruple homicide." Sherlock said, explaining it as if he were talking about the rules to a board game rather then explaining a motive for murder.

"So, the guy who shot at us in the alley...?" Ariel asked, shuddering at the fresh memory.  
"Another gang member." Sherlock said as if it were painfully obvious. Ariel nodded to herself, then asked,  
"So, where are we going?"

"Well, seeing as how they didn't take to kindly to us trying to walk into their hideout, we're going to go inform Lestrade of what we know." Sherlock said simply. Ariel's jaw dropped and she turned to glare at Sherlock.

"You mean you walked me right into a death trap, knowing full well what might happen and you decided not to tell me?" Her voice rising until it finally broke in anger near the end. Sherlock turned to look at her. She looked absolutely horrified.

"I wasn't going to let you get hurt. Besides, we weren't going to go in. Just have a little look around." Sherlock defended his actions, but he could see from her face that he had deeply hurt Ariel. For her part, Ariel was to infuriated with this mad man to speak to him, so they rode to the Yard in silence.

Sherlock hopped out of the cab and waited for Ariel to climb out after him. When she didn't, he stooped down to gaze at her still sitting in the back of the cab.

"Aren't you coming?" Sherlock asked. Ariel shook her head.  
"No, I have some things that need doing back at the flat." Ariel said. Sherlock gave her a questioning look. Ariel glared back at him with a look that meant "I need to be left alone before I can forgive you". Sherlock seemed to understand.

He straightened up and said,  
"Alright. See you there in an hour." With that he shut the cab door and stalked away.  
Ariel gave the driver the new address and relaxed as they pulled away from the Yard.

Ariel stumbled into the darkening flat. She heaved a heavy sigh. She had already forgiven Sherlock, before he had even left the cab at Scotland Yard. But she was need time to figure out why she had forgiven a man, who had knowingly put her life in danger, not ten minutes later.

If it had been anyone other then Sherlock, it would have taken her days, or weeks, or months even, before she could even speak to them again. But with Sherlock, it had only taken her minutes before he had been forgiven. And that scared Ariel. It scared her more then the bullets being shot at her had scared her.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel stumbled around the flat. Whatever the reason for her soft spot towards Sherlock, she would deny it because, well, what were the chances he would return any affection?

Ariel decided she may as well eat, seeing as how Sherlock didn't eat when he was on a case. After a quick phone call to her favourite fish and chip shop, Ariel sat back in one of the arm chairs in the living room and flicked on the telly. She entertained herself with the Doctor Who marathon that was on, all the while thinking of comments Sherlock would make about how unscientific it was or questioning how ordinary people could enjoy such nonsense. The thoughts made her smile.

Half way through the first episode, Ariel heard the buzzer go off, telling her that dinner had arrived. After paying off the delivery guy, Ariel made her way back upstairs to her chair and Doctor Who, munching on her chips as she climbed the stairs.

Curling up in an arm chair, eating fish and chips and watching Doctor Who was something Ariel hadn't done in what felt like forever. But she was really enjoying herself.

As she was picking at the remnants of her dinner, her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling out, she noticed the new message was from none other then John.

"Got time to talk now. What's up? - JW"  
"Nothing much. Just finished dinner and watching Doctor Who. -AH"  
"Sherlock's letting you watch Doctor Who? He hasn't told you to turn it off yet? -JW"

"No, he's not home. He's out investigating. -AH"  
"Ah, that explains it. -JW"  
"John, can I talk to you about something? -AH"

"Of course. What is it? -JW" Ariel thought about if she really wanted to say this, then decided there was no going back now.

"John, I think I'm in love with him. -AH" The reply was instantaneous.

"What?! What happened? Why would you say that? -JW"  
"He nearly got me killed. He knew he was putting me in danger and didn't tell me. But I forgave him instantly. Also, I may have seen stars when he let me touch his knee and didn't try to shoo me away. -AH"

Ariel sent the text before she could think to much about it. She'd have plenty of time to regret it later. John's reply was nothing like what she expected.

"Yeah, he'll do that to you. Put you in danger, I mean. He didn't try and shove it off? He just let you just fondle his knee? -JW"

"Yeah, your right. No, he didn't. I honestly was in shock. -AH"  
"As am I at hearing this. Call me. We need to talk about this properly. -JW" Just as Ariel went to dial Johns mobile, Lestrade burst into the flat.

"Lestrade! What's wrong?" Ariel ask, genuinely worried about the man.  
"It's Sherlock." Lestrade panted out. "He's gone. Sherlock's gone."  
"What do you mean "gone"?" Ariel asked, panic rising in her belly.

"I mean disappeared, gone, vamoosed! He left after he got a text, which I assumed was from you until one of the boys spotted him on the other side of London. He left in a hurry and wouldn't tell me where he was going. My men have been watching him, but he just disappeared down an alley and he hasn't been seen or heard from since." Lestrade said, gaining back his breath.

Ariel still had her phone in her hand, ready to call John. Instead, she navigated back to her texts and quickly thumb out a text to Sherlock.  
"Where the hell are you? -AH"

"Lets get going!" Ariel yelled at Lestrade as she grabbed her coat and purse, which had a gun in it she had never used. Lestrade nodded and with that they were flying out the door of 221b and scrambling to get into the police cruiser that was waiting outside. They tore away from the curb, tires squealing and sirens blaring. To anyone else it must have looked like they were in a chase scene.

"Which alley did he go down?" Ariel asked as Lestrade weaved in and out of traffic.  
"One off Saint Johns." Lestrade replied. A lump formed in the pit of Ariel's stomach.  _Surely, there's lots of other alleys off Saint John_ s. Ariel thought trying to reassure herself. But she knew exactly which alleyway he'd gone down. She knew exactly where he went. And with any luck, she knew exactly where to find him.

The trip took an excruciatingly long time, but when the got there, Ariel dashed out the car. Her gun neatly hidden in one of her coat pockets, Ariel waited only seconds for Lestrade to clamour out of the car and catch up with her.

Her heart was racing, adrenalin coursing, pupils dilated. She was ready to fight. To save that idiots life. Without a word, her and Lestrade walked down the alley, the same alley where Ariel had been shot at only hours ago.

Her memories flashed before her eyes, trying to cause her to turn away in fear, in shear terror. But that wouldn't happen. His life, the life of the man who had saved her life, was on the line and she'd be damned if he died because she was to scared.

As they walked farther down the alley, she heard the sound of more police sirens.  _Good, more backup_. Ariel thought. Guns loaded and raised, Lestrade and her rounded the corner to the very stretch of alley where Sherlock and Ariel had been shot at earlier.

Ariel did a quick scan, looking for the detective anywhere he might be found. Much to her relief, she found him, not in a pool of his own blood, but looking around barrels and bins, presumably for evidence.

"Damn it, Sherlock." Ariel cursed, loud enough for Sherlock to hear if he chose to, which he obviously did not. She lowered her gun, flipping the safety back on and relieved not to have had to use it.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Ariel yelled as she stormed over to Sherlock. He spun around to look at her, obviously more then a bit surprised she was there. He was immediately being back up against the brick wall though as she continued to scold him.

"You could've been killed! Why didn't you let Lestrade come? Why didn't you ask me to come?" Ariel asked, then paused to see if Sherlock would reply. He didn't, but he looked completely flustered.

"Well?" Ariel pressed, wanting answers to questions she knew full well Sherlock didn't know how to answer. But she'd rather stand there for an eternity for them then move without them. Ariel watched as Sherlocks eyes dropped to his feet and she heard him mutter something.

"What?" She asked, prompting him to speak up. He raised his head a little, still refusing to look at her and started again, just loud enough for her to hear.  
"I didn't want to risk hurting you. Again." He mumbled. Ariel stood in shock, wanting to kiss him and hug him and tell him it was alright and scold him and question him further. But she didn't.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, it happened. The gun shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Ready for some Sherlock/Ariel fluff?


	19. New Sensations

**Chapter XIX**

For the second time that day, Ariel found herself hiding behind a garbage bin being shot at. This was becoming a rather annoying reoccurrence. Thankfully, Lestrade was there to help. She heard him returning fire, then quickly ducking back down to call for help from the boys waiting just outside the alley. Within a minute they'd be here.

Ariel relaxed a little and realized she was clutching Sherlocks arm with both hands. She quickly pulled away, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. Sherlock didn't seem to notice, being preoccupied with trying to help Lestrade. Ariel pulled out her gun, flipped the safety off and handed it to Sherlock, who immediately joined Lestrade in fighting off their attackers.

A moment later, the sound of about a dozen armed police men running echoed down the alley and Ariel relaxed a little more, knowing the troops were here. Adrenaline pumped though her veins. She watch Sherlock and Lestrade shoot at the attackers, gazing up at them from where she sat on the concrete. Time seemed to slow down, even if was just for a moment.

The other police officers open fired at the gang members in the alley, causing them to retreat. The officers pushed their way further into the alley. It was a show down between Scotland Yards finest and a vicious gang, whose numbers seemed to have doubled.

There were now seven or eight gang members, firing away, yet they were out numbered almost two to one. There was a moment when it seemed like the fight could go either way but after a minute it was clear that Scotland Yards boys were winning.

Ariel was still curled up behind the bin as Sherlock and Lestrade moved out from behind it to join the other officers in the front lines. Within a matter of minutes, the police had surrounded the gang members, forcing them into a surrender.

As they were each hauled off in a pair of handcuffs, Ariel dashed out of her hiding spot and ran right at Sherlock. The man looked absolutely horrified as she rushed at him. She stopped just in time to avoid knocking him over, though she did venture to put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't try to remove it, so neither did she.

"Another case solved." Ariel said giddily, her body still dumping adrenaline into her system.  
"It would seem so." Sherlock said, in his usual cool and calm tones. Ariel smiled up at him, a gesture which he returned. Lestrade walked over to them, looking back and forth between the two.

"Sherlock, did you see the man who actually committed the murders?" Lestrade asked.  
"Yes, Lestrade. The man Sergeant West took in his car, with the scarring on his right hand, is your man." Sherlock answered. Lestrade gave a sharp nod.  
"Thanks for your help. I'll need you in the office tomorrow." Lestrade said, then looked at Ariel. "Both of you." He amended with a grin at her. She returned it with one of her large smiles.

"I'll make sure we're there." She said. Lestrade gave another sharp nod and was off, no doubt eager to put this whole this to bed so he could have the night off.  _He deserves it_. Ariel thought. Sherlock and Ariel watched Lestrade until he was well out if sight. Sherlock turned to Ariel, childish excitement lighting up his eyes.

"Hungry?" He asked. Ariel thought back to the cozy flat she had been in earlier. She suddenly felt tired, just wanting to curl up on the sofa of 221b.  
"Can we get takeaway? I just want to go back to the flat." She said, a tired giggle escaping her lips. Sherlock smiled down at her.

"Sure thing. Greek? I know a delicious place just down the street." He said as they began walking out of the alley. Ariel giggled again.  
"Sounds wonderful." She said, clutching onto his arm to steady herself.  
"Good. You can always tell a good Greek place by the curtains." Sherlock told her.

Ariel couldn't contain her laughter.  
"Interesting." She said, still clutching his arm and laughing. He joined her with a deep chuckle and smiled down at her as they walked.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel stumbled into her room. She glanced at the clock as she flopped onto the bed.  _11:47pm_. She groaned. Exactly when had she gone from being able to stay up for 48 hours straight and still function normally to only being up for 20 hours and not being able to keep her eyes open?

Ariel sighed into her bed, closing her eyes and starting to drift off to sleep. Which is the moment her phone decided to ring. Ariel groaned as she rolled of over and picked up her mobile.  _John Watson_. Her eyes flew open and she sat up as she answered.

"Hello?" Ariel tried out cautiously, nervous something was wrong.  
"What the hell happened to you calling me?" John shouted at her on the other end of the phone. Good. Nothing was wrong on his end.

"I'm sorry. Something came up and I just got free time now." She said, rubbing her eyes. She heard John sigh on the other side of the line.  
"What happened?" He asked reluctantly. Ariel smiled.

"Sherlock disappeared, Lestrade and I went after him, got shot at for a second time today and then arrested a half dozen baddies and a murderer. Nothing unusual." She said, knowing full well it was anything but usual.

John sighed again, and Ariel heard him mumble "Sherlock..." angrily under his breath. She could imagine the look on his face; hand over his brow, shaking his head.

"It's ok. He made it worth my while." Ariel said, a slight giggle in her voice. There was dead silence on the other end.  
"What... What did he do?" John ask cautiously, voice breaking the first time he started the question.

"He took me out to dinner. Nice Greek place too. He even paid." Ariel said, mock disbelief coating her words. This produced a chuckle from John, which made Ariel smile.

"You're going to tell me exactly what happened between you and Sherlock. What makes you say you're in love with him?" Johns voice was purposefully keep slow and level, though Ariel could detect an almost panicked undertone.  
"I just..." Ariel started and then when she couldn't think of the right words, she flopped back down on the bed.

"You know that feeling you get when you meet someone, and you just know that you'll be friends?" She asked John, but didn't really give him time to reply. "It was like that when I met him. And since you left, leaving me to watch over him, we've become... close. Closer then I would have thought he'd let me. And it makes my head spin and my heart flutter like a bloody teenager, but I can't make it stop." She ended sounding exasperated.

Ariel then proceeded to describe to John exactly what had happened since he left, leaving John with more information then he cared to process at the moment.

"Do you think I'm mad?" Ariel asked, genuinely scared at herself that she had just poured out her soul to a man halfway around the world, who a year ago she wouldn't have even considered a friend. She heard John sigh.

"No. Your not mad. At least not completely. Because it would take a partially mad woman to be in love with Sherlock Holmes. And I have no doubt that you are, in fact, in love with him." John reassured her, kindly and gently. Ariel sighed heavily, a little relieved.

"What should I do now?" She asked. John had more experience with this sort of thing.  
"Well, he at least values you as a friend, that much is clear. I guess you'll just have to keep pushing the boundaries and see where he tells you to stop." John said, and Ariel got what he meant.

"Thanks John. You're amazing. I see why he's friends with you." Ariel said, smiling. She heard John chuckle again on the other end of the line.  
"Tell him that, would you?" John said laughingly.

"I should go to bed." Ariel yawned out.  
"Text me later, yeah?" John asked.  
"You bet. Bye." Ariel said.

"Bye." John said, and the line went dead. Ariel turned off her phone, dropped it on the bedside table and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

**XXXXXXXX**

In the other bedroom in 221b, Sherlock was laying wide awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking. The case solved, he thought over some of the things that had happened that day. And the ones his mind kept coming back to were the ones where Ariel had touched him.

Normally, Sherlock didn't particularly enjoy human touch, whether it be out of sympathy or joy or for whatever reason. But when Ariel had touched him, it just felt right. It felt good. And he didn't know why.

That scared him, to not know the whys and hows of something. He thought back to what she had said, her response to his statement "Caring is not an advantage", the one Mycroft had drummed into him. She had said "It's not a disadvantage either".

The more he thought about it, the more he saw her point. He even began to agree with her. That's most certainly not like him, to agree with someone who challenged what he had believed for years.

Sherlock was now very scared, but also deeply curious as to why these things were happening. Would they continue to happen? Would they still feel good? Would they change over time? He decided that he would have to find out.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel awoke to a rather large crash from downstairs. She jumped out of bed and ran downstairs when she heard another crash. As she rounded the corner into the living room, she heard another crash, louder this time, which she now knew was coming from the kitchen.

"What the hell is going on?" She yelled, approaching the kitchen. Sherlock poked his head out of the doorway, a large grin on his face.  
"Good, you're up. This was starting to bore me." He said, dropping a giant pair of cymbals into a nearby chair. Ariel glared at him.

"What were you doing?" She fumed, just about ready to tear his head off for waking her up.  
"I was doing an experiment. I wanted to see how loud a noise would have to be before it woke you up." Sherlock said, an innocent and charming smile on his face.

Ariel gave up the fight and went to the kitchen to help herself to some cold cereal. She walked back out and seated herself opposite Sherlock in Johns usual chair. She munched at her cereal, checking her emails on her laptop. Sherlock sat there, fingers steepled under his chin, observing her.

Ariel tried not to let it bother her. He was, after all, just trying to learn more about her, though not in the conventional way. But that was alright. His unpredictable quirks and strange habits were what Ariel loved about Sherlock. He wasn't boring, dull, routine. He was unique and sporadic and she loved it.

Ariel looked up from her laptop and smiled at Sherlock. And he smiled back.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know and leave a comment!


	20. Tick Tick Boom

**Chapter XX**

Sherlock spent the next two days experimenting with this and that. Ariel tried her hardest not to interfere with him and his experiments, many of which involved dismembered human remains, but there was the occasional need for her to enter the kitchen.

Every time she did, she found Sherlocks interest diverting from whatever experiment he was working on to staring at her, even for a brief moment. It was odd, even for him, to pay her so much attention. Ariel shrugged it off. It probably meant nothing.

After breakfast on the second day after they had closed the quadruple homicide case, a weird happening should have tipped Ariel off that things were different between her and Sherlock. He walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

"Would you like to go out for lunch?" Sherlock asked Ariel, who was sitting on the sofa with her laptop balanced on her knees. She looked at him, silently trying to figure out what was happening. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed.

"I have to wait for an experiment. And as I perceive is socially required, I am asking if you would like to join me in eating lunch outside of the flat." Sherlock said, in his standard "this is annoyingly tedious" tone. Ariel still glared at him funny for a moment, before sighing and deciding to go for it.

"Sure, I'd love to. Where did you have in mind?" She asked, shutting off her laptop and standing up to grab her purse.  
"I was thinking you should choose." Sherlock said. Ariel stared at him, mouth open and eyes wide. She just looked at him, unsure of what she should say. Finally, she made up her mind.

"Uhhh... Burgers?" Ariel tried, listing off the first thing that came to mind. Sherlock seemed to pause for a minute, thinking.  
"Fine. I know a place." He said, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

"You always seem to know a place." Ariel giggled out behind him.  
"That's because I know London better then anyone else." He said over his shoulder as they made their way down the stairs and into the bustling street outside.

**XXXXXXXX**

The two of them sat in silence, waiting for their food to arrive. Ariel was listening in on a conversation the two ladies in the next booth over were having. Nothing overly interesting, but it beat the silent glare she was getting from Sherlock. Her gaze returned to Sherlock as he tilted his head at her.

"What?" She asked.  
"I'm still trying to figure you out." Sherlock said, narrowing her eyes at her.  
"What do you want to know?" Ariel asked, more then happy to have this conversation.

"I don't know yet." He said, hands steepled in front of his face. Ariel leaned back in her chair.  
"Aright. Deduce me like one of your dead girls." She said, then chuckled at her own joke. Sherlocks eyebrow shot up, questioning why she was laughing. She just shook her head, dismissing his unspoken question.

Sherlock went back to his narrowed eyes, hands folded on his lap, observing little details about her. He studies Ariel for about ten minutes, his observations being broken by their foods arrival. After the waiter had left them to eat in peace, Ariel asked the question she was dying to ask.

"Well," she began, to catch Sherlocks attention. "What have you deduced about me?"  
Sherlock looked at her, a sly grin on his face.

"Well, I already knew you were the older of two siblings and that your younger brother is deceased." Sherlock started before launching into his deduction.

"You have no living relatives, well at least none that your close to. Your mother is deceased and your father lives with his family, probably his younger brother, out in Uxbridge. You haven't been to visit him lately, something you regret. I can hardly imagine why, as he is slowly killing himself with alcohol. Your mothers death was hard on your father, yet you and your brother were already out of the house by that time. Given your brothers position in the army, I say he left for it as soon as possible, so 18 then. You too left home as soon as you were able. You to joined the army, you were an Aviation IT Systems Operator. You served one term before returning home." Sherlock said, sounding a little to proud of himself.

"Impressive." Ariel said, intrigued at how Sherlock had gotten so much out of her without her saying so much as a word. "Anything else?"

"I know that during your term in the military, you never once heard a gunshot, at least not one near you. You've also never pulled the trigger on a gun while in combat. You did, however, practice martial arts as a teenager and have learned the art of self defence quite well. You've broken your left arm once, probably when you were 13. No other broken bones though, so you lead a fairly safe and cautious childhood. However, while all this information helps form a clear picture of your life until you were 22, I can't figure out what you did in between then and now." Sherlock rambled of, ending his drawl with a tones of frustration.

He looked up at Ariel to see if she would give him the answers.  
"Well, that was brilliant. Really amazing. I'm surprised I gave that much away." Ariel said, a sly smile creeping over her face. "But not what I did for the last ten years? I thought that would have been easier to read then my childhood."  
"Would you tell me, please?" Sherlock asked and Ariel stared at him, speechless.

"Well... I would. Except there's nothing interesting to tell." Ariel said, nibbling on a chip.  
"Surely here must be something." Sherlock said. Ariel looked up at him, and he read something in her eyes. It was almost a pleading, a "please don't make me" look. What was she hiding?

"There isn't anything worthwhile telling." Ariel said definitively, then quickly changed the subject. "Where did you learn to play violin?"  
Sherlock took the hint, saving his questions for later.

"I've learned from several teachers, even teaching myself at one point. My mother put me to it when I was about four. Said it would be a good way to keep me out of trouble." Sherlock said, a light chuckle at the memory. Ariel nodded, watching his reaction. There was an awkward silence as they both went to their personal thoughts, nibbling away at their food.

"Do you remember my proposition to you, before John left?" Ariel asked, playing with the straw in her drink.  
"Of course I remember." Sherlock said dismissively.  
"You said I could work three cases. To prove myself and my worth to you." Ariel paused, carefully avoiding Sherlocks gaze. "We've done two together now. What happens when we finish the third?"

Ariel had really enjoyed working with Sherlock. All her other emotions aside, she loved the rush his particular brand of excitement gave her, the sheer mystery of it all. And then watching him unravel it was just awe inspiring. She couldn't imagine going back to her dull, boring life. Sherlock looked at her, and for a moment they locked eyes.

"You have been most useful to me. If you prove useful still, I will continue to use your skills in the future." Sherlock said, place his hand over Ariel's. This won him one her most genuine smiles, one which was filled with both relief and joy.

"Thank you, Sherlock." She said. And she meant it. There was another awkward moment when they both had their eyes locked on each other, not wanting to look away, but neither had words to say nor actions to do. If it had been a movie, they would have kissed, but it wasn't.

The awkward silence was brutally ended when the building across the street blew up on the 6th floor.  _A bomb_! Was the only thought that screamed through Ariel's mind, as she found herself flying towards the floor of the restaurant. Her actions may have been unnecessary, but they were the normal human response.

Seconds later, Ariel crawled out from under the table to stare out the nearby window at the devastating hole that had been blown in the side of the building. Before she could thoroughly grasp what had just happened, she found herself being dragged out of the restaurant by Sherlock, who was eager to investigate the scene.

Sherlock rushed across the street, Ariel in tow, to stare up at the gaping, still smoking, hole in the building. Fire engines, police sirens and ambulances could be heard, rushing to the scene. A small crowd had gathered to stare up at the tangled messy havoc of pipes and boards and drywall that was spewing out of the buildings upper floor.

Sherlock watched the faces of the people pouring out of the building, studying and cataloging each reaction. Ariel's eyes too swept over the ever growing crowd of people, it she was not looking at their reactions. Instead, she was looking for faces she recognized and people who needed help. She may not have been a doctor, but she did have some medical training and figured that was the best way she could help right now.

She saw a few people who looked like they were on the verge of going into shock, but they were being cared for already. Other then them, no one else seemed to have any serious injuries, a side from cuts and scrapes. Ariel shrugged, still scanning the crowd till she found what she was looking for.

Ariel grabbed Sherlocks arm and towed him through the crowd towards one of the police cruisers that had pulled up seconds ago. Sherlock didn't protest. They made it to the cruiser just as Lestrade stepped out.

"Oi! What are you doing here?" He called out to them, and Ariel dragged Sherlock closer.  
"We were just finishing lunch over there when the building decided to blow up." Ariel said in a causal tone, jerking her towards the restaurant across the street. Lestrade glanced over at the restaurant and gave a little nod. Lestrade looked back at Ariel and Sherlock and raised an eyebrow at Sherlock, who was clearly longing to get up to the heart of the disaster. Lestrade shook his head.

"Sorry Sherlock, I can't let you up there. Not till we determine what caused the explosion." Lestrade said, and Sherlock whimpered.  
"But Lestrade..." He whined.  
"No Sherlock! You are not allowed up there until I say so. Understood?" Lestrade snapped. Ariel watched, trying really hard to contain her laughter. It was like watching a five year old ask his father for something and being rejected.

Sherlock folded his arms across his chest and huffed, but he didn't argue his point. He knew he couldn't change Lestrades mind.  
"You two go finish your lunch. I got to get this crowd under control." Lestrade said. He the jogged away, towards the Scotland Yard officers trying to keep the crowd back from the building. Ariel turned to Sherlock.

"Come on Mr. Pouts-a-lot, I do believe we still need to pay our tab." Ariel said, smiling and laughing. She grabbed Sherlocks arm again and dragged him back to the restaurant.

"Table 17's bill please." Ariel said to the girl at the front desk. The girl looked up at her and handed her the bill. Ariel took it and went to pull out her card when Sherlock stopped her.

"No. I've got it." He said, smiling down at her. He then handed the girl behind the counter his card and paid for lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Leave a comment!


	21. Well, This is Awkward

**Chapter XXI**

"You didn't have to pay, you know." Ariel said as they drove along in a cab. Sherlock turned to her and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Why not? I understand that social protocol requires that the man to pay for a shared meal." Sherlock said. Ariel felt her cheeks go a light shade of pink.  
"That is a purely circumstantial protocol." Ariel said, turning to look out the window and hopefully not show Sherlock her blushing face.

Her mind raced through all the possible responses to that statement and just had time to dread one question, when Sherlock asked the very question she was scared he'd ask.

"And what would be the circumstances for such protocol?"  
Ariel felt a lump in her throat and tried to swallow it. Why was he asking? Did he know what the answer would be? Did he want to embarrass her? She realized Sherlock was probably just asking an innocent question and honestly didn't know the answer. She took a deep breath before answering.

"The circumstances in which a man would pay for his and a woman's meal in normal social protocol is when there is a romantic link between the two of them." Ariel said plainly and then held her breath for his response.  
"Oh." Was all Sherlock said. An awkward silence fell upon them in the back of the cab and Ariel wish for nothing more then to have it broken by something, anything.

"Your offended. You think that because I paid, I must have a romantic attachment to you." Sherlock said in a low voice. It sounded almost... sorry.  
"No, I don't think that." Ariel said, whipping her head around to look at Sherlock. "I just don't want people getting the wrong impression."  
"You honestly care about what other people think?" Sherlock ask, seeming surprised.

"Only because I don't want your life or mine to be any harder then it already is because of what they think." She said, just above a whisper. She stole a glance at Sherlock. He look genuinely distressed. Purely out of instinct, Ariel reach out and grabbed his hand, gently stroking it. His face turned from distressed to confusion.

"I'm sorry." Ariel said, with drawing her hand and going back to staring out the window. Sherlock looked over at her, studying her, trying to figure out what had just happened.  
"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong. " Sherlock asked. Ariel was messing with his brain, making it impossible to think straight.

"I'm sorry because I didn't think about the consequences of my action, I just did it. And it bothered you." Ariel said, sheepishly turning towards Sherlock but keeping her eyes downcast.  
"It didn't bother me." Sherlock said, cocking his head. He was throughly confused by Ariel now. Ariel just gaped at him. Finally, she realized her jaw was hanging open, so she shut it and turned back to the window.

"Alright then." She said, and they rode on in silence. Sherlock sat there trying to figure out what he should do. Clearly there was something wrong, but what and why were what he didn't understand. Why was Ariel acting so strange all of a sudden? Sherlock had several theories, but each one was more improbable then the last. Finally, he gave up and resigned himself with trying to figure out what might have caused the explosion earlier.

Ariel was staring out of the cab, trying to get as far away from Sherlock as possible. Why had she done that? Why was she so emotional over him? He made her brain hurt from the numerous feelings she had. She cursed him before deciding there was nothing she could do about it now, and she tried to regain her composure.

She looked at Sherlock out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be deep in his mind palace, thinking.  _Good. At least he won't question me._ Ariel thought as she waited for the cab to pull up to 221b.

**XXXXXXXX**

The hours of the afternoon ticked by slowly, torturously, as Sherlock went back to his experiments and Ariel was left with little to do. She had already cleaned the flat top to bottom over the last few days and she was caught up with every news piece, email and piece of paperwork that had come out in the last month.

She found herself doing the few dishes from breakfast in the kitchen while Sherlock had disappeared into his room, mumbling something about accelerating decomposition. Ariel really didn't want to know. As she scrubbed at the cutlery she had used that morning, Sherlock flung the door to his room open, barreling out and running past Ariel for the sitting room. She poked her head out cautiously to watch him as he flung himself all around the room, searching for something.

"What are you looking for?" Ariel asked, disappointed that Sherlock couldn't even keep the flat clean for twenty four hours.  
"Where did you put it?" Sherlock called over his shoulder as he rummaged through one of the draws in the desk.

"Put what?" Ariel asked, stepping out into the living room. Sherlock had now moved on to pulling out every book from the library.  
"It! You know, the thing!" He said as he yanked out the books. Ariel cringed as he let the stack he was holding on to fall to the ground.

"Sherlock! Stop it!" Ariel pleaded as she walked over to the madman and grabbed one of his wrists. She forced him to turn away from the bookshelf and look at her.  
"Now tell me, what are you looking for?" She said quietly, a gentle tone to her voice that Sherlock hadn't heard before.

"I'm looking for my lighter. I always have a lighter around." Sherlock said, a wild look in his eye. Ariel's mind flashed back to a text she had gotten from John and a promise she had made.

_"Don't let him get a hold of any cigarettes. -JW"_

_"Don't worry. No cigarettes for him. -AH"_

Ariel wondered if now was one of those times when she would have to fight with Sherlock for his own good. She swallowed hard.  
"I chucked it in the bin." Ariel lied, praying it would work. Sherlock stared blankly at her for a moment.

"You and I both know that's not true, but you obviously felt compelled to lie to me, so why did you..." Sherlock trailed off as he looked Ariel over again as she dropped her grip on his wrist. She felt absolutely naked in front of him, wondering just how far he'd delve. Sherlocks expression turned from one of curiosity to one of near rage.

"You can't honestly believe I'm going to use it for cigarettes?" He asked in a dangerously quiet voice. Ariel knew very well that the particular tone he was using was one used just before he blew up. Ariel cautiously opened her mouth.

"Only because I promised John I wouldn't let you smoke, and he'll kill me if I let you." Ariel said, sounding more confident then she felt. Sherlock looked her over one more time, then seemed to relax. He let out a deep sigh.

"While I..." Sherlock seemed to trip over the word he was trying to use. "...appreciate your concern, I need the lighter for an experiment which involves the rate a which different oils burn and how they burn human flesh." He said, standing straight and looking down on Ariel.

There wasn't such a big height difference between the two of them, but it was just enough to make Ariel feel small. With a nod, Ariel ducked over to the fireplace and pulled out the lighter from a little wooden box on the mantle.

"You know," Ariel said, walking back to Sherlock and placing it in his hand, "that I never touched it? It's been there the whole time." Ariel smirked at the flash of red that past over Sherlocks face as he stared with anger and embarrassment. Ariel had little time to enjoy it though, because at that moment her phone rang. She reached into her pocket and checked it as Sherlock made his way back to the kitchen. Her face paled at the number on the display.

"Sherlock." She called out as she headed to the stairs up to Johns room. "I've gotta take this. If you need me, I'll be upstairs." Ariel heard Sherlock mumble something as she hit the bottom step and tried her hardest not to run. She quickly dashed into Johns room and closed the door behind her as she answered the phone.

"Hello?" She said, a little out of breath into the phone.  
"Hello, Mrs. Hunt. I hope you have good news for me." The now familiar male voice said on the other end of the phone.  
"Yes sir." Ariel said. There was a moment of silence.  
"Well?" The voice asked, obviously annoyed.

"Sorry sir. Everything's going according to plan." Ariel said into the phone.  
"Excellent. Keep up the good work and there might be a substantial raise in your pay." The mans voice sounded pleased.  
"Thank you sir." Ariel managed before the line went dead. Ariel slumped against the wall, tears threatening her eyes.

She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up. Sooner or later, Sherlock was going to find out and she had no idea what he would do to her when he did. The weight on her shoulders was getting heavier each day, and one day she knew she wouldn't be strong enough to carry it. Ariel dropped to the floor.  _What am I going to do?_  She asked herself. She couldn't just stop working for this man, surely he'd kill her or worse... But at the same time she couldn't tell Sherlock. Ariel let out a heavy sigh. Ariel looked up as the door flung open and Sherlock came barging in.

"Oi! Knock first next time." Ariel yelled, scrambling to her feet. Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
"Right. There'll be time for manners later. Right now there's a case!" He said excitedly, spinning out of the room with Ariel in tow.

"What case?" She asked as they tumbled down the stairs. Sherlock didn't answer. He was already in his coat and headed down the stairs to Baker Street. Ariel hurriedly grabbed her coat and chased after him.  
"Sherlock!" She yelled, out of breath as she caught up with him and grabbed his wrist. "What case?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking if she really could be such an idiot. Realization dawned on Ariel.  
"The bomb?" She asked as Sherlock slipped out of her grip and hailed a taxi.  
"Yes. But we're going to investigate something else." Sherlock said, sounding excited as he held the door to the cab open as Ariel climbed in. Sherlock climbed in after her and gave the driver the address to the restaurant they had been at earlier.

When they arrived, Sherlock hopped out and basically ran to the yellow police tape with a half dozen officers standing behind it. She sighed and paid off the cabbie. She then wandered over to Sherlock, who was already trying to get into the building but his path was being blocked by Sergeant Donovan. Ariel walked within earshot just in time to hear.

"Forget it freak, I'm not letting you in." Donovan said, disgust lancing trough each word.  
"Sally, your boss wants me, wether you like it or not. Now let me in." Sherlock said in his dangerously calm voice. Ariel stepped up behind him.  
"And who might you be?" Donovan said to Ariel. Lestrade appeared before Ariel could answer.

"Good, you're here. This way." He said curtly. Sherlock shoved past Donovan with a smirk.  
"Where's the body?" Sherlock asked when they were inside.  
"Well, that's the thing." Lestrade said. "It's a bit more then just a body."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Leave a comment and let me know!


	22. Family Feud

**Chapter XXII**

Ariel stared bewildered at... well, whatever it was that was before her. Sherlock was already on his knees, searching the, er, thing, as Ariel stood perplexed off to the side.

"What is that?" Ariel asked Lestrade, who seemed just as confused. He gave her a slight shrug.  
"We don't know what it is exactly. It's probably some elaborate prank, but it's got our forensics team pretty stumped." Lestrade responded.

"That's because they're all idiots." Sherlock said from his spot beside the thing as he checked his mobile. Ariel rolled her eyes at Sherlocks back. This particular case was already making her stomach unsettled and that put her in a bad mood.

"Well, what is it then, Sherlock?" Ariel asked the detective that was crawling around the body. Sherlock didn't answer. He continued his observations, then suddenly, he stood up and walked out of the charred room.

**XXXXXXXX**

"Sherlock!" Ariel yelled as she cased after him, Lestrade close behind her. "Where are you going?"  
"I need to see someone." He yelled back over his shoulder. Ariel speed up to catch Sherlock before he walked through the door.

Lestrade stopped short, not needing to catch the detective.  _Who could he need to see?_  Lestrade wondered as he returned to the room with the mangled, unidentifiable remains.

"Sherlock!" Ariel called as she cased after him. "Sherlock!" Finally, she managed to catch him as he stood outside the damaged building.  
"Where the hell do you think your going?" She asked as a black car pulled up and Sherlock opened the door.

"I have a... client. Now, are you coming or not?" He sounded just as ticked off as Ariel felt. Ariel didn't respond, but instead, climbed in and sat herself down. Sherlock climbed in after her, shut the door and the car sped away.

Ariel looked around. It was quite a luxurious car; leather seats, wood paneling, a mini bar in front of them. But that was not what gave away the identity of Sherlocks client. No, Sherlock himself did a good job of that.

He seemed to be incredibly tense and generally more miserable then usual. Which could only mean one thing - family. And judging by the car and the intense frown on his face, it was none other then Mycroft Holmes.

Ariel sat, quietly dreading meeting the older Holmes boy again.  _Could this day get any worse?_  Before she had the chance to consider all the possible ways she could escape this situation, the car stopped outside a rather large building that looked Victorian. Sherlock flung himself out of the car, barely containing his disgust at being here. Ariel stepped out, putting on her best ladylike act. In reality, she didn't like the place anymore then Sherlock.

"Where are we?" She asked, her voice sounding sweet and innocent.  
"Mycroft's office." Sherlock said through gritted teeth as he walked up to the revolving doors and pushed his way inside. Ariel scurried in after him. The woman whom Ariel had dealt with before stood just inside the door, obviously waiting for them.

"Hello, not Rebecca." Ariel said in a cheerful tone, but then immediately regretted it. To her knowledge, Sherlock didn't know she had met his brother or any of his employees before.  _Well, to late now_. She thought as she looked at the completely deadpan look she was getting from not Rebecca.

"Oh please, her name's Lisa." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes and pushing past the woman. Lisa's eyes went wide, but she didn't say a word.  
"This way." She said, not even looking up from her blackberry as she turned and walk down a long hallway. At the end was an elevator, which all of them climbed in and rode to the second-to-the-top floor. Lisa then lead them down another hallway, then stopped in front of a large oak door.

"There you are. He's waiting for you." She said. She continued to type away on her phone as she headed back towards the elevator. Ariel watched her leave before turning to look at the door ahead of her. It was a solid looking oak door with a plaque on it that read  _Mycroft Holmes_  in gold letters. Sherlock took a deep breath, grabbed the handle and entered the room.

Mycroft was sitting behind a beautifully carved wooden desk. He looked up from his laptop and smiled wryly at his two guests.  
"Come in, have a seat." He said, gesturing to the two chairs in front of the desk before returning his attention to his laptop. He frowned at it as Ariel and Sherlock took their seats. After a moment, he shut it and looked up at the pair before him.

"Hello." He said, sounding pleasant enough. Ariel knew better then to believe that tone.  
"Get to the point Mycroft." Sherlock snapped at his elder brother.  
"No need to get snappy, Sherlock. I have a case for you." Mycroft said, feigning pleasantness. Sherlock rolled his eyes but didn't reply. Mycroft now turn his attention to Ariel.

"I assume you have heard about the explosion that happened earlier today at the Remington complex. And the... unique remains that were found there." Mycroft said, carefully directing his words to Ariel, but really talking to Sherlock.  
"Of course. And the body was nothing special." Sherlock huffed.

"Oh? I've heard reports that say it has a certain... extraterrestrial quality to it." Mycroft said, though he betrayed that he knew more then he was letting on.  
"Please. It's a fake. Human remains that were mutilated and mixed with ones of other animals. Pig, primarily, but also some dog and cow bones." Sherlock said, sounding completely disinterested. Mycroft sighed.

"I didn't call you here about the body. There is a more pressing matter involved with the explosion." The urgency in Mycrofts voice perked Ariel's interest, although it didn't have the same effect on Sherlock. The younger Holmes just huffed in his chair.

"Do you know what was on the level where the bomb went off? It was a secret operation for maintaining the Royal Jewels. And can you guess what's missing?" Mycrofts voice was deadly calm. Ariel glanced at him as he leaned forward in his chair. A ray of fading sunlight glimmered off his tie pin. Ariel's breath caught in her throat as she saw that it was the silver swan pin she had stolen from Sherlock. She tried to look calm and glanced over at Sherlock. If he had noticed, he didn't say anything.

"So... Someone set off a bomb after they stole the Royal Jewels and then planted a modified corpse to make it look like aliens did it?" Ariel asked, trying really heard to get this straight, but failing miserably. Her thoughts were a bit preoccupied, after all. Sherlock and Mycroft both looked at her as if she were crazy.

"It would seem so, yes." Mycroft said in his usual trying-to-be-pleasant tone. Sherlock groaned and held his head in his hands.  
"Can't you to see whats going on?! You're idiots, both of you!" Sherlock yelled, shaking his head. Ariel just stared at him, torn between feeling sorry for him, being scared for her life and ready to rip his head off. She heard Mycroft take a deep breath.

"Then perhaps, dear brother, you can explain what is going on?" Mycrofts tone was a warning, one that meant 'relax or I'll have you escorted to a mental hospital'. Sherlock steeled himself for a moment before answering his brother.

"Yes, whoever did this stole the Royal Jewels and planted the bomb. The bomb was a cover up for the thievery. But the mutilated corpse has nothing to do with the thief. That is a completely different case." Sherlock said, calmed down just a bit.

"Then who and why would someone add a body to the mix?" Ariel asked.  
"Because that would add another element of confusion to an already dizzying case. But the body isn't important." Sherlock stated simply. Mycroft cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him.

"Excuse me. But there are more pressing matters then a wayward prank. Sherlock, we are talking about the Jewels of the Royal Family vanishing." Mycroft said impatiently.

"Of course, brother dearest. But what would you like me to do about it?" Sherlock said in a mocking tone. Mycroft took a deep breath and straightened in his chair.  
"I want you to find them." Mycroft said in his usual clam and dangerous voice.  
"Fine then. But only because I respect their importance to our country, not because you asked." Sherlock said, then leapt out of his chair and headed for the door.

"Oh, and do try and protect her Majesty's possessions better next time, Mycroft. We wouldn't want you to be out of job. What would Mummy say?" Sherlock said smugly and dashed out the door before his brother had time to reply. Mycroft sighed heavily.

"He does love to be dramatic, doesn't he?" Ariel said, carefully standing up.  
"You have no idea." Mycroft said, sounding deflated.

"Ta Mycroft!" Ariel called cheerfully as she left his office. She walked down the hallway back to the elevator and was more than a bit relieved to see Sherlock waiting impatiently for the elevator to arrive. Ariel walked up to Sherlock and waited with him. They were quiet until they got to into the black car waiting outside.

"So." Ariel said as the drove along. Sherlock just hummed in response.  
"Let me get this straight. Someone stole the Jewels and set off a bomb. Then another someone planted a body that looked alien in the bombed building to confuse the heck out of the police. The bomb and the body were to distract from the really crime, which was the stealing of the Jewels, which no one but secret service were supposed to know were there." Ariel said, once again trying to make sense of the muddle that they found themselves in.

"Yes, exactly. Your point?" Sherlock said, obviously more then a bit distracted by his own thoughts.  
"Where do we start; the body, the bomb or the bandit?" Ariel said, almost cheerfully. Sherlock looked at her, his eyes searching for an answer to a question he didn't feel the need to ask. When he seemed to have his answer, he sat back.

"No wonder John likes you." He muttered under his breath. Ariel giggled inwardly.  _That was the closing thing to a complement I think I'll ever get out of him._  She thought.

"We'll start by looking for clues to the bandit, and if that doesn't lead us straight to the Jewels, we'll take a look at the other two." He said flatly, mind hard at work. A moment of silence took over as the drove along the London streets.  
"Where are we going then?" Ariel asked, watching out the window.

"Stopping of at the flat to pick up a few things, then back to the crime scene." Sherlock said, excitedly. Ariel smiled to herself. She liked when Sherlock was excited.

**XXXXXXXX**

About an hour later, Ariel found herself snapping photos of the mangled corpse, the bomb blast, debris spread, anything and everything that might have to do with the case.

She had argued that the police had already done this, but Sherlock had insisted she take photographs for him, mumbling something about the incompetence of police. She took another photo and was surprised by the image that appeared on her screen.

"Uh, guys! Come look at this!" Ariel called out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Want to criticize me? Leave a comment!


	23. The Wall

**Chapter XXIII**

"What is that?" Lestrade asked as he peered over Ariel's shoulder to look at the display screen of her camera.  
"A silhouette." She said, wondering if Lestrade was blind. It was clear as day what the picture was of. She heard Lestrade let out an exasperated sigh behind her.

"Oh, oohh." Sherlock said, leaning over Ariel's shoulder. Ariel's breath caught a little as he leaned on her shoulder to get a better view of the camera. One thing about Sherlock was that he had absolutely no concept of personal space. Which meant he regularly invaded Ariel's and she loved it. She knew it didn't mean anything, but it still made her heart flutter to be so close to him.

While she was lost in thought, Sherlock had grabbed the camera from her and was staring intently at it, then at the wall and then back at the camera. Ariel reluctantly took the camera from him as he shoved it into her hands and went to examine the wall.

"Lestrade, we're going to need a spotlight." Sherlock called over his shoulder as his fingertips traced a line on the wall.  
Five minutes later, Lestrade walked back in carrying a gigantic spotlight.  
"Is that good?" He asked breathlessly as he put the heavy light on the floor near Sherlock. Sherlock looked at it for a moment.

"It'll do." He said finally. He moved it into position and turned it on. The bright light filled the darkening room as it bounced off the once cream walls. In the area where the circle of light was most concentrated, a rather strange shape appeared.

"Ok, I hate to ask but, what is that?" Lestrade asked, as he gazed at the figure imprinted in the wall. "And don't you dare say it's a silhouette."  
"Of course not, Lestrade. This is an imprint of a person who was standing here when the blast happened." Sherlock said as he studied the wall.  
"Oh god, you mean some poor bloke was standing here when the bomb went off?" Lestrade asked, dismay and disgust painting his face.

"Oh don't be so sentimental Lestrade. This person was probably the thief and judging by the lack of body or blood, made a clean escape." Sherlock said, glaring at the detective inspector.  
"You know, I shouldn't even be here if the body wasn't a murder. Bombs and thievery isn't my division." Lestrade said, regretting ever having to call Sherlock to the crime scene in the first place.

"Whose division is it?" Ariel asked, trying to prevent a fight.  
"Well umm, Detective Inspector Hensworth deals with thievery and Inspector Lawrence Williams deals with bombs." Lestrade responded.  
"And they're both idiots." Sherlock said, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"Sherlock!" Ariel and Lestrade cried in unison. Sherlock just continued his inspection, not even pretending to care.  
"Anyway, I better be off. If you need anything, call." Lestrade said as he handed Ariel his card.

"Thanks. I will." Ariel said genuinely. She liked Greg Lestrade. He was an honest, hardworking, good man. And he hadn't killed Sherlock yet, which was a feat most people would not have achieved after knowing the man for nearly 10 years.

Lestrade nodded at her and was off. Ariel turned to Sherlock.  
"You know, you could at least try to be nice to him. He does care about you, after all." Ariel said as she knelt down beside Sherlock, handing him swabs and ziplock baggies and anything else he needed.  
"I am nice to him." Sherlock defended.

"No Sherlock, what you just said to him was defiantly not nice." Ariel said, storing a cotton swab in a bag.  
"What did I say?" Sherlock asked, seeming to have forgotten what he had just said.

"Well, you did call his coworkers idiots, as well as the whole police force. And then there was the not appreciation for him bringing you this lamp." Ariel said as she gestured to the light behind them. Sherlock seemed to think for a minute before he answered.

"His coworkers and the police force are idiots, and the lamp is not perfect. He did his best, under the circumstances, but Lestrade could have done better." Sherlock responded, looking at Ariel briefly before returning to his work. Ariel sighed.

"Next time, could you just say thank you?" Ariel asked. She knew she was going to get know where trying to change his opinion about the police force, but at least maybe she could get him to say a simple thank you. Sherlock looked down at her, searching her face. Ariel just looked up into his eyes. Funny, she had never noticed how green they were. Ariel noticed a slight change in Sherlocks expression before he returned to his work.

"Alright." He gave. Ariel couldn't resist the urge that over took her. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gripped it tightly.  
"Thank you." She said quietly into Sherlocks ear.

**XXXXXXXX**

It was late into the night when they returned to 221b. Ariel scrubbed at her eye, trying to rub the sleep out of them. She knew she wasn't going to get any sleep tonight, so she mustered up as much energy as she could and pressed on in her job. She was sifting through the photos she took earlier.

Sherlock had insisted that she print out each one, then sort them. When she had finished sorting them the first time, Sherlock had come over and told her to do it again. She was to tired to argue, so she had done it. Now she was handing Sherlock the stacks of photos and watching him toss the majority aside and keeping the important ones in a pile beside him. Once Sherlock had finished with the photographs, he returned to his microscope in the kitchen, examining the swabs he had taken earlier.

It was well after three and Sherlock was still working with the evidence. Ariel was in a full on war on the sofa trying to keep her eyes open. She felt like she was loosing the war. She drew in a deep breath and threw herself off the sofa. She staggered a bit but was able to stable herself enough to wander into the kitchen to check up on Sherlock. He was staring intently into his microscope.

Ariel leaned against the door frame and took a moment to just watch him work. He was so concentrated on his work, so deeply involved and he knew just what he was doing. He truly was a genius, an incredibly intelligent human being. Ariel just stood and marvelled at him.  
Finally, after a few moments, she snapped out of her trance and asked Sherlock,  
"How's it going?"

Sherlock looked up at her briefly before returning to his work.  
"Fine." He said, adjusting his microscope. Ariel stepped towards him and hugged herself.  
"You should take a break. Just to get a little rest." She said, watching him. Sherlock looked up at her again, this time holding her gaze.

"I don't need to rest. I'm perfectly fine." He said, searching her face again. Ariel gave a small smile.  
"I know." She replied. They searched each other for a moment. Then Sherlock realized something.

"I don't need your help right now. If you feel the need to, you may rest." He said. "Thanks. I think I will." Ariel said with a light giggle before leaving the kitchen.  
She headed straight for the sofa. She didn't think she could make it upstairs right now. Ariel fell asleep on the sofa mere moments later.

Sherlock listened to the faint rasp of her breath as she slept. He got up he was certain he was asleep and went to check on her. Ariel lay on the sofa, one arm dangling of it, lips slightly parted, her chest slowly rising and falling. Sherlock just watched her for a moment. She was so... peaceful. Sherlock smiled to himself as a thought occurred to him. She is beautiful. Sherlock ducked back into the kitchen and returned to examining the evidence.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel work up to sunlight pouring through the sitting room windows. The curtains were wide open, allowing light flutter through the flat. Ariel sat up and stretched, stiff from sleeping on the sofa. She looked around the flat, searching for the one thing that was missing: Sherlock.

She couldn't see the detective anywhere, so she sat perfectly still, holding her breath to listen for any minute noise. It was a few seconds later when she heard a light scuffling coming from the direction of Sherlocks bedroom. Ariel let out the breath she was holding and made her way into the kitchen.

As she prepared herself a bowl of cold cereal, she glanced at the clock.  _8:23am_. Well, at least she'd gotten some sleep. She took her bowl to the table and cleared herself a spot to sit in amongst the laboratory equipment, careful not to contaminate any evidence.

She was just finishing her bowl of cereal when Sherlock emerged from his room, wearing nothing but a bed sheet. Ariel had gotten used to a lot of unusual things living with Sherlock; like finding fingers in the fridge, or having to move laboratory equipment to eat. But this was a new level of strange. First of all, as far as Ariel knew, Sherlock didn't sleep. And at the moment, he looked like he just woke up from the worlds longest nap.

Second, even though Ariel silently prayed that Sherlock was at least wearing pants, she had a hunch he was completely nude under the sheet. Ariel looked away, mostly to hide her redding face.

"Sherlock, don't you think you should, ummmm, get dressed?" Ariel asked, carefully not making eye contact with him as she got up to wash her dishes. Sherlock looked at her quizzically.

"Why? I have to work at home today anyway. No point in getting dressed if there isn't anything fun to do." He said as he brushed past her to sit down at the microscope. Ariel decided to try a different topic.  
"Did you sleep at least?" She asked as she dried of her dishes.  
"Mmmm... No." Sherlock answered absentminded, to busy studying something under the microscope. Ariel sighed.

"I know I shouldn't ask but... Why are you naked in a bed sheet if you didn't even sleep last night?" Ariel asked, not completely sure she wanted to know the answer. To her pleasure and dismay, Sherlock didn't answer. Ariel waited a full minute before she gave up and went to check her email.

Updates, condolences (still?), library books due, oh, and an email from John.  
Ariel opened the email from John. There was a picture of him and Harry sitting on a beautiful park bench surrounded by lovely pink orchids. While John and Harry may not get along most of the time, they both looked happy enough in the photo. Ariel smiled to herself.  _John would do anything for the ones he cares about_. She thought.

Ariel scrolled through the rest of the email, reading about Johns trip and the experiences he was having. Ariel finished reading it and sent a quick little reply. As she closed her laptop she looked up to find Sherlock standing in the doorway, fully clothed and smiling.

"What?" She asked, a bit nervous at his devilish grin.  
"I think I have a lead? Ready?" He asked, reaching for his coat.


	24. The Fifth Floor

**Chapter XXIV**

Ariel was always ready to catch a criminal. Or at least, she thought she was. Until Sherlock had told her that her job that morning was to sift through some bloke's garbage looking for... well,  _something_. Sherlock didn't know what exactly what he was looking for, but he said he'd know it when he saw it.

Which meant Ariel couldn't get out if helping him find whatever it was.  
Ariel tucked a stray strand of long blonde hair behind her ear before digging back into the garbage bin she was currently working on. She tossed aside an old, dog-eared receipt book and it landed with a light thump in the pile she was working on.

Sherlocks head shot up, not for the first time that morning, to look at what Ariel had thrown out. He gingerly picked it up with his gloved hands and searched through its contents. Ariel ignored him - this was, after all, the seventh time he'd done this.

Ariel stopped to look at him though when a full minute past by and he still hadn't put down the book. As she glanced over at him, tucking the strand if hair behind her ear again, she noticed a change in his expression. He looked deep in thought, like he was trying to decipher a code. Ariel glanced down at the open book - Sherlock was trying to decode a message!

It looked to be just a jumble of letters, scrawled onto a scrape of paper that was tucked into the book. But she knew better then to take anything at face value. Ariel reached into her pocket and pulled out her notebook and pen. She copied the cluttered mess of letters into it and then set about trying to unscramble the code.

"It's a Caesar cipher." Sherlock said in his matter-of-fact tone. Ariel took that bit of information and put it to use. Caesar ciphers look like a jumble of letters, but simply replace each letter with one that is fifteen letters further on in the alphabet and you have unveil the hidden message. It's a brilliant cipher because most people would just overlook it as useless gobbledygook; meaningless letters written on a scrap of paper. But Sherlock Holmes wasn't most people.

Ariel finished her translation and handed it over to Sherlock.  
"It's a receipt. For the explosives used to blow up the building." Sherlock said, studying the message.  
"Wait, how do you know they were the same explosives used in the building?" Ariel asked, confused.

"Because it's a receipt for the same type and same amount as used in the building. Plus, you see that smudge on the bottom there? It's not really a smudge; it's a signature. Of the black market. An explosive cocktail made only by a handful of people, and this just happens to be what was used? No, this is the receipt for our friendly thief." Sherlock said, waving the notebook in Ariel's face until she snatched it out of his hands.

"Fine. But at least a dozen people use these bins everyday. How do we find out who this belongs to?" She asked, hoping desperately that Sherlock wouldn't have an answer. But, as always, he did.

"Process of elimination. Simply find out who it doesn't belong to and we narrow down the suspect list." Sherlock said, striding towards the entrance to the nearest block of flats and tucking the receipt book into his pocket. Ariel rolled her eyes and chased after him, striping of her marigolds and tossing them in the bin as she went. She caught up with Sherlock as he hit the buzzer.

"Hello?" A young woman's voice crackled on the speaker.  
"Hello. I don't think we've met. I live in the flat just above you." Sherlock said in a friendly, almost childish sounding tone.  
"No, we haven't. Can I help you?" The woman asked, clearly not sure about Sherlock.  
"Yeah, actually you can. I left my keys in my flat and I was wondering if you could buzz me in?" He asked, the silly innocent tone of his voice making Ariel's skin crawl.

"Sure thing. Just a second." They heard the click as the door unlocked and swung open for them.  
"Thank you." Sherlock called merrily as he swooped into the block of flats.

Ariel rolled her eyes at Sherlocks back as he swiftly climbed the stairs to the first level of flats. For the next three hours interviewing the tenants of the five story block of flats. Ariel was surprised at Sherlocks ability to act. At each door, he came up with a new identity, persona and reason for being there. Ariel was grateful she was fast enough to catch onto his act before making a complete fool of herself. She wish Sherlock would have told her his plan, but of course, that wasn't his way.

She just smiled to herself as she thought just how much he must actually enjoy her company to include her in his investigation. Lestrade had said that only one other person (John, of course) had managed to get Sherlock to like them enough to trust them to help in investigating. "Usually, we 'ordinary people' just get in the way." Lestrade had said with a chuckle. Ariel had laughed along with him, but she knew she was different. Maybe not Sherlocks level of different, but she wasn't ordinary.

These thoughts ran through her head as they approached the first door on the fifth floor. Sherlock abruptly whirled around and Ariel nearly ran into him. He whipped out the receipt book and pushed it into her hands.  
"Put it in your pocket and when I ask for a pen, reach into the pocket and make sure it falls out." Sherlock said, in a curt whisper. Ariel sharply nodded as she tucked the book safely into her pocket. Sherlock rapped his knuckles on the door. A young man in his late twenties with jet black hair and moss green eyes opened the door.

"Can I help you?" He said curtly to Sherlock before noticing Ariel standing off to the side. He winked flirtatiously at her and she gave him a quick "not interested" smile. He shrugged and returned his attention to Sherlock.  
"Yes, actually, you can. I'm looking for a Sarah Dewitt who works at the Chinese shop just down the street." Sherlock said casually. Ariel narrowed her eyes at him, wondering what he was up to.

"Uh, yeah, I know Sarah. Doesn't work at the Chinese shop though. Well, not anymore. Hasn't for months." The man said.  
"Oh, that's a shame. Do you know where I can find her?" Sherlock asked.  
"I'm looking for her. She's my cousin, but I've, well, lost contact with her." Ariel said, acting sheepishly.  
"Well, she's living over in Brixton now. Moved over there ages ago." The man said. Ariel's eyes lit up with false excitement.

"Would you mind writing down the address?" She asked, eagerly.  
"Sure." The guy said as Ariel dove into her pocket, reaching for the "pen".  
"Oops!" She exclaimed as the receipt book fell out of her pocket and crashed onto the floor. Sherlock was studying the mans reaction, and he had found just what he was looking for. Fear.

"I'm sorry, I'm so clumsy." Ariel giggled as she collected up the receipt book. "Now, how about that address?"  
"Uh, yeah, uh, sure." The man stuttered, glancing nervously at the pocket which Ariel had tucked the book into. He scribbled out an address on the paper Ariel had handed him and gave it back quickly.  
"Thank you!" Ariel called out as the guy quickly closed the door on them.

"What was that all about?" She asked, whispering to Sherlock as they strode down the hallway to the lift.  
"That, was us finding a man who was involved in the bombing." Sherlock said smugly as he boarded the lift.  
"Now what?" Ariel asked, climbing in after him.  
"Now, we have our explosives expert." Sherlock said, still smug. "One drop of water to set the whole bowl in motion."

"Which means means we've found the man who will be able to bring down the house." Ariel said confidently. Sherlock nodded.  
"Yes, this man knows something. Either he was directly involved or has information. Either way, we need him." Sherlock said, stepping out if the elevator and striding out of the lobby.

"What is our next move?" Ariel asked, almost jogging to keep up with him.  
"I'm going to inform Lestrade of this development. Then, I'm going to question our friend." Sherlock said calmly as he hailed a cab.  
"And what about me?" Ariel asked, planting herself right in front of Sherlock.  
"I want you to go home an examine the pictures some more. See if the silhouette matches our man." Sherlock said, never taking his eyes off Ariel as he leaned around her and opened the cab door. She smirked at him.  
"Alright." She said with a lopsided grin as she climbed into the cab. Sherlock followed suit and the cabbie waited for instructions.

"221 Baker Street, please." Ariel directed and the cabbie nodded before weaving his way into traffic.  
"You should drop me off at the Yard first." Sherlock whined. Ariel rolled her eyes at him.  
"You left a glorious mess at home, and someone is going to have to clean it up sooner or later. I want to get a start on it before you get back." She said, scolding him a little as she laughed and smiled. Sherlock shook it off and replied coolly,  
"Fine. But please do look at the pictures. I would appreciate an answer before we bring him in."

Ariel nodded and contemplated the work ahead of her as the slowly made their way thought the busy streets of London towards the flat she had called home for the last 10 days. She rather liked 221b, with Sherlocks crazy experiments, Johns assortment of jams and the rather potent smell of chemicals. It was cozy, comfortable and it felt like home. She smiled at her train of thought.  _But there is no home for me_. She thought, sadness creeping into her eyes. Ariel was jolted from her thoughts as the cab stopped outside the flat she had been day dreaming about. Without a word, Ariel hopped out of the cab and head in the door of 221b Bakers street.

**XXXXXXXX**

It had been over four hours since Ariel had left Sherlock alone in the cab. It hadn't taken her long to determine that the man they had met earlier didn't match the one whose silhouette the blast had painted on the wall. Even cleaning up Sherlocks mess hadn't taken as long as she had expected. As Ariel sat down and looked over her handiwork, her mobile vibrated on the nearby table. She picked it up. There was a new message from John.

"Booked our flight home. Will be home in four days. -JW" Ariel sent back a quick text.  
"Home already? Not enjoying Singapore or just tired of Harry? -AH" A minute later, John replied.  
"Haha, you remind me of Sherlock with that deduction. Harry. She's getting on my nerves. -JW" Ariel blushed more then she should have at being compared to Sherlock, but she knew John was teasing her.  
"See you soon then. -AH"

Ariel smiled and bit her lip as she put the mobile down again. She wanted to do something special for Sherlock before John came home, even if she never told him that she loved him. An array of ideas whirled in Ariel's mind before she decided on one. Smiling, she pushed herself out of the chair and set to work getting ready for her surprise. She didn't know if she could fully surprise Sherlock, but she was going to try.


	25. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Lemony Prescott for beta-reading!

**Chapter XXV**

Sherlock walked through the door of 221b as dusk set in. As he entered into the familiar flat he noticed something strange.  _It's unusually dark, even for Ariel_. He thought. There were candles that flickered as the little gust of air that entered with Sherlock swept over the room.

The flat was unusually tidy, and lit with candlelight. Sherlocks eyes scanned the flat until he found the woman responsible for this. His eyes narrowed on Ariel, who was peacefully curled up on the sofa with a glass of red wine in her hand.

"What is all this?" He asked, rather annoyed.  
"I thought you could use some relaxation." Ariel replied sweetly. She stood up and walked over to the kitchen table. She pulled out a chair and Sherlock sat, reluctant and silent. Ariel disappeared into the kitchen, only to return moments later with two large plates pilled high with food.

She placed one in front of Sherlock and put the other in front of her chair. She sat down and smiled at Sherlock as she poured him a glass of wine.

"I made your favourite." Ariel said, hoping he would keep up a conversation.  
"It looks... edible" Sherlock said flatly. Ariel rolled her eyes, although Sherlock didn't notice. Sherlock watched Ariel pick up her fork and start eating. He noticed she was carefully avoiding his gaze, but she looked almost smug.

"You know I don't eat when I'm on a case." Sherlock said coolly. Ariel smiled up at him.  
"Couldn't you make one exception? Just for me?" Ariel asked, her eyes pleading more then her words. Sherlock grabbed his fork and gingerly took a bite of the food Ariel had prepared.

To his surprise, it tasted delicious. He took another fork full, savouring it a bit as he tasted the different flavours, textures, and he enjoyed it. Ariel caught him and smiled.

"Do you like it? She asked innocently, honestly hoping he did. Sherlock read her face for a moment before replying.  
"Yes, it's very good." He said, a faint smile twisting his lips. Ariel beamed like she had just been told she was the prettiest girl at the ball. Sherlock and Ariel ate in silence, each one occasionally studying the other. After a few minutes of silence, Ariel broke it.

"John's coming home. In four days." She said, stabbing lightly at her food and avoiding eye contact. Sherlock looked at her, wondering why she would say that.  
"That's good. I assume he is tired if dealing with Harry." Sherlock said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, he said he was." Ariel said. Sherlock noticed that all of a sudden she was shy, almost embarrassed. Something was wrong.  
"When he comes back, I'll be moving back into my old flat. That is, if Mr. Holden still has it for me." She said. Now she was just playing whit he food. What is going on? Sherlock asked himself, unable to tell what was bothering her. That unnerved him, not knowing.

"I'm sure he will." Sherlock said slowly. "And if not, 221c is always available. Mrs. Hudson hasn't been able to find a tenant for it in ages."  
Sherlock noticed Ariel's eyes light up, just the slightest bit, at him offering a place to stay.

"And what about us?" Ariel asked finally, putting down her fork. Ah, so this is where this was going. Sherlock thought.  
"Like I said before, I appreciate your skill and I find that I rather enjoy your company. As long as you wish, you are welcome to work cases with me." Sherlock said, not entirely sure of the words coming out of his mouth. They didn't sound like him, but he knew that was how he felt.

Though Ariel was clearly pleased with this answer, her eyes looked vaguely disappointed and she seemed as if she had more to ask, but she didn't say a word about it.

"Thank you, Sherlock. I really appreciate it." She said, a genuine smile painting her lips. Something inside Sherlock twitched at that smile. He had a sudden curiosity as to how he could make her smile like that again. He'd have to do an experiment on it later.

"More wine?" He asked, grabbing the bottle and holding it just over the rim of her glass.  
"Yes please." She said, picking up her fork again to finnish off her dinner. Sherlock poured the red liquid into her glass, twisting his wrist and flourishing the bottle as he finished pouring.

"Bit of a show off tonight, aren't we?" Ariel asked, her sapphire eyes sparkling with an open playfulness Sherlock hadn't seen before. He wondered how much of herself she was willing to reveal to him that night, but he knew full well that it would hardly be a one-sided reveal.

"Hardly." Sherlock scoffed in reply, digging back into his dinner. They finished their meal in peace. As soon as they had finished, Ariel collected the plates and placed them in the sink, ready for washing. She started in on them, Sherlock sitting relaxed in his chair watching her.

"John's return bothers you. Why?" Sherlock asked, sipping back a mouthful of wine. Ariel focused on washing the dishes as she replied.  
"I rather enjoy living here. I guess I'm just disappointed I'm a fill in." She chuckled, not really meaning the last bit.

"You most certainly aren't a fill in. If its all the same to you, I rather enjoyed your presence. The flat has never been so well maintained." Sherlock said, a hint of humour flavouring his last comment. Ariel smiled, the same smile she had earlier.  _Humour, then_. Sherlock thought, making a mental note in his mind palace.

Ariel finished the dishes and made her way into the living room, wine glass in hand and Sherlock in tow. She sat herself down on the sofa, causally curling her feet up beside her. Sherlock turned his chair to face her before sitting down.

"What is tonight really about?" Sherlock asked once they were settled. Ariel sighed and looked out the window before answering.  
"I realized today that I don't really know you. And I want to know you, Sherlock, I really do." Ariel said in all earnestness.

"No, you really don't." Sherlock said, a deep chuckle punctuating his sentence.  
"Can I at least decide that for myself?" She asked, a faint, pleading smile on her lips. Sherlock studied her for a moment, trying to deduce her motives. But as always, he only found what she wanted him to see. Her walls were amazing, constructed carefully so as to not let anything she didn't want slip. But Sherlock could sense something behind those walls, something he desperately wanted to know. He sighed heavily.

"Fine. But you must deduce it for yourself." He said, grinning at her displeased face.  
"If that's the way you want it." Ariel replied, sipping her wine and studying Sherlock. He carefully sipped his own glass, having full confidence in his barriers. They sat their, staring at one another for what seemed like hours, but in reality was maybe ten minutes.

Sherlock was beginning to wonder if Ariel could stand up to the challenge when she broke the silence.  
"Interesting..." She said in a low, pleased tone. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow at her.  
"What did you find?" He asked, calm and cool.  
"No, no. You don't share and I don't share. That's how you wanted it, yes?" She asked, toying with her glass and clearly trying to get Sherlock to snap. He grinned at her, knowing her game.

"That would seem to be the rules." He said. Sherlock noticed Ariel's empty glass, so he jumped up and darted into the kitchen for the wine.  
"More wine?" He asked as he re entered the room holding a full bottle.  
"Yes, thank you." She replied pleasantly, still obviously a bit smug. As Sherlock pour them another glass of wine, he noticed Ariel staring at him with a silly little grin on her face.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face." Sherlock demanded as he sat down beside her on the sofa. Ariel leaned in closer to him as her smile grew larger.  
"Make me." She said playfully. Sherlock just looked at her, studying her and wondering what he should do next. Ariel knew she had stumped him momentarily, so she continued.

"Did you know, Sherlock Holmes, that you could never get rid of me?" She said slyly.  
"I could if I wanted to." He retorted.  
"Oh no, you couldn't. Do you know why?" Ariel was having fun playing with him. "Because I am a mystery you will never be able to solve. I will never be dull to you. And if you were to get rid of me, you would beg me to come back, because without me, your life would be... Boring." As she finished, she lent back with a completely satisfied grin on her face.

Sherlock thought about it. Even though he would never admit it, he agreed with her. If she were to leave, his life would be just a little bit more boring. He contemplated life without Ariel as he stared at her. Her beautiful blonde hair shimmered in the candle light, her red lips glistening... Sherlock shook his head. Could this really be happening? Surely not, not to him. But what if it was? Could the great Sherlock Holmes really be falling in love? Sherlock dismissed this thought and went back to the mystery of how to deal with Ariel's smugness at knowing she was so important to him.

Ariel sighed, although her eyes retained their playful gleam. She almost could see the thoughts running through Sherlock's head.  
 _Why can't he just tell me how he feels?_  She thought. Or maybe he didn't like her at all, and everything she thought she saw wasn't there. Maybe it was just her imagination. She stared at him, desperate to catch just the faintest glimmer of his affections.

His cool blue eyes stared back at her and for the longest moment they held each others gaze. They were both deep in thought and neither broke the ever increasing silence.  
Finally Sherlock gave.

"You're right." He said with a bit of a sigh. Shocked, Ariel exclaimed,  
"What?!"  
"You are right, Ms. Hunt. You are a source of intrigue in my sometimes dull life." Sherlock explained. Ariel couldn't believe what she was hearing, but she forced herself to respond.

"For the last time Sherlock, call me Ariel." She said in all seriousness.  
"I apologize, Ariel." Sherlock replied with a large grin. Ariel smiled back. That was one of the first times he had ever called her Ariel, although she was sure he knew her name. Her heart fluttered when he used it, his deep baritone voice wrapping around the sounds of her name and making it sound like the best thing on Earth. Sherlock saw her barriers drop, just for a second, and he saw just how pleased she was. His grin grew even larger.

"Sherlock..." she asked slowly, a grin creeping over her face as she leaned forward again, invading his personal space just a bit. Sherlock watched her eyes flicker downwards, briefly studying something before returning to his eyes.

The angle of her head had made it so she was looking up at Sherlock through her dark eyelashes. He never thought she had looked so beautiful as she did at this moment, lit by candle light. The last tendrils of sunlight had long since disappeared. The darkness outside the windows was diffused only by street lights and passing cars. Sherlock felt out of place all of a sudden. He didn't know what to do. Ariel smiled playfully at him again.

"Don't worry Sherlock. I won't bite." She said, slipping on a mask of innocence. Sherlock didn't know if he could trust that look. But Ariel was determined to make him believe her, as she wound her arm around Sherlock, drawing him closer. This was much more intimate then his encounter with The Woman. Sherlock was almost enjoying himself at the close touch of her. Ariel smirked again and kissed Sherlock on the lips.


	26. Do You Love Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to Lemony Prescott who beta read for me!

**Chapter XXVI**

Sherlocks eyes fluttered open as Ariel drew away from him. She gazed at him and smiled brightly, lovingly. Sherlocks mouth hung open ever so slightly and he felt as if he should be remembering something. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Ariel gently placed a hand his neck and stroked lightly with her thumb to calm him. When he looked at her again, he saw a faint glimmer of hurt in her eyes.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered, her smile faded.  _Her smile!_  Sherlock thought. That's what he was supposed to remember. He was cataloging the actions that elicited that beautiful, genuine smile from her, kissing now being added to the list.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." Sherlock said, his deep baritone a rumble at such a low pitch. Sherlock watched as the hurt in her eyes turned into hope. Their faces were no more then six inches apart. He watched as her eyes darted, scanning his face.

Sherlock too, was studying her and he noticed that she had lowered her guard, revealing just the tiniest bit of what was going behind her mask. Ariel dropped her gaze all of a sudden, withdrawing her hand with a look of utter embarrassment on her face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I let myself get carried away." She said, retreating from Sherlock, moving as far away from him as she could without getting up. She refused to meet his gaze. Sherlock honestly didn't know how to react. He knew he should do something, but he didn't know what.

"Why would you be sorry? While it may be tedious, the human instinct is to mate, especially when one find someone particularly attractive. I have been told I am rather handsome. You only did what any other woman would have done." Sherlock said, his normal, almost clinical tone masking his complete and utter bewilderment at this situation.

Sherlock watched as Ariel's face drained of colour and a near horrified expression took over her face. Sherlock mentally cursed his choice of words, internally laughing bitterly as the thought of John saying " _Bit not good_ " crossed his mind.

"So I'm not the first then?" Ariel asked timidly, with dry humour and a forced laugh. Sherlock took the second chance to try and fix his earlier mistake.  
"No, but you are rather unique." Sherlock tried, even going as far as placing one if his rather large hands on Ariel's knee.

He was rewarded with Ariel turning to face him and giving him one of her beautiful smiles. Sherlock felt his heart jump at that smile. There was a moment of silence as Ariel just smiled, but she eventually broke it.

"John told me, how when you two first met... He said you told him this kind of stuff wasn't really your area." Ariel stumble over her words as she once again adverted her gaze. Sherlock bit his lip, trying to think of a way to fix this. But what exactly was he trying to fix?

"Admittedly, I am not good at emotions, attraction and love being among them. But that doesn't mean I can't feel them." He said, watching Ariel's profile as he spoke.  
"Then what does it mean?" Ariel asked slowly, staring at the fireplace.

"I... I don't know." Sherlock admitted, hanging his head in defeat. Ariel's head snapped up and she stared at him, trying desperately to read him.  _What did he mean?_  She wondered. Sherlock lifted his eyes to meet hers. She was beautiful. So beautiful.

"Sherlock..." She said in a low, quiet voice. A voice that made Sherlocks worries and doubts disappear and multiply at the same time. In an instant, Sherlock made a decision he would probably regret later. Before she could say another word, Sherlock had his lips pressed against hers. The heat of her, pressed so close to him, he need it. He need more of it.

Ariel was shocked at first, but a moment later she gave in. She had wanted this. God, she had wanted this for so long. But something was wrong. It wasn't like Sherlock to just give into his emotions, even though Ariel was fairly certain he did have them. Ariel reluctantly pulled away, staring into Sherlocks endless blue-green eyes.

"What do you want Sherlock?" Ariel asked slowly, less then six inches away from Sherlock. Sherlock could feel her warm breath ghosting over his face. Sherlocks mouth hung open just slightly.

"I...I'm not sure." He stuttered, returning her gaze. Sherlock honestly didn't know what he wanted. Up until this point he had always been in control of himself, his emotions and even to some extent those around him. But now he had lost that control, and it scared him. But what scared him more was that he could sense he had feelings for Ariel. He had to admit that they were there, he couldn't just hide them anymore. But he didn't know how.

"Ariel, I don't know what I'm feeling. Like I said before, emotions aren't my area. But I know I'm feeling something." Sherlock managed to say, his voice breaking in various places. Ariel gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Describe what you're feeling to me and I'll help you. I want to help you, Sherlock." Ariel said, placing a reassuring hand on Sherlocks. Sherlock felt himself draw in a shaky breath. What is she doing to me? He wondered. His heart was racing and he felt strangely out of breath.

"Tell me. I want to help." Sherlock heard Ariel's voice whisper, her voice sweet and crystalline. Sherlock steeled himself for a moment, mentally preparing for what he was about to say.

"My heart is beating abnormally fast. I feel lightheaded and breathless with you so close to me. My head feels fuzzy and clear at the same time." Sherlock rambled, retreating to his familiar clinical tone.

Ariel felt her heart leap in her chest. Sherlock had just described, abate with his logical and scientific statements, that he was in love. And not just in love, but in love with her! Ariel took a deep breath to calm her heart down, but it wasn't really working.

"Compounded with the fact that I can see the reflection of my own pupils, which are abnormally large, in your eyes and that I am feeling aroused, there is only one possible conclusion I can come to. I understand the implications of these... symptoms, but I did not believe myself capable of love. Let alone loving someone like you." Sherlock stated.

Ariel normally would have been deeply touched by his words, but she had gotten hung up on one particular phrase. " _I am feeling aroused_ " was what Sherlock had said and, given the circumstances, Ariel could not help herself from giggling. Sherlock sat and stared at her in bewilderment as Ariel began laughing louder and louder.

"What's so funny?" Sherlock demanded. Ariel covered her mouth and quieted her giggling. When she regained her composure again, she spoke.  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed. But what you said Sherlock, the last bit, about not being capable of love, it was really sweet." Ariel said, beaming brightly even though her heart pounded in her ears. Sherlock looked at her quizzically.

"Then why did you laugh?" He asked. Ariel's smile grew wider.

"Because just like you, I'm not all that good at dealing with emotions, especially love and attraction. At least not when it comes to confronting the person I have those feelings towards about them. But I tend to look for the humorous route out of awkward situations. I quite simply found your comment about arousal to be that escape." Ariel said, giving her best imitation-Sherlock tone. Sherlock just nodded, his lips pressed into a thin smile. Ariel felt like she had said something wrong, she could feel her heart sinking in her chest each second Sherlock remained quiet.

"Sherlock, if you're saying what I think your saying, then you probably have a question for me." Ariel asked, putting her hand in Sherlocks and moving in closer to him. Sherlock gazed into Ariel's eyes. He licked his dry lips. Since when were they dry?

"And what question would that be?" He asked calmly. Ariel's eyes glittered playfully.  
"I thought you were a genius. You should be telling me." She said. Sherlock smiled slyly.  
"Well, do you?" Sherlock asked. Ariel trailed her hand up Sherlocks arm, but she never took her gaze away from his face.

"Do I what?" She asked, her hand finding its resting place in the crook of his neck. Sherlock knew she was playing a game, but for once he didn't mind playing along. He bent his head forward to whisper in her ear.

"Ariel, do you love me?" His deep baritone whisper was breathless, the words stolen from his lips. He heard Ariel sigh contently.  
"I do." She whispered back. "But the real question is, does the great Sherlock Holmes love me back?"

There was a space where it was so quiet all Ariel could hear was her own heartbeat. She waited for Sherlocks response, her hopes rising, her stomach twisted into unknown shapes. She felt sick and happy and amazing and horrible all at the same time, during those seconds that felt like eternity as she waited for him to respond. Finally it came. Sherlock pulled back and looked deep into Ariel's eyes, his hand holding hers now, and he spoke.

"Yes." One, tiny, breathlessly spoken word and Ariel was sent over the edge into bliss. She was so happy she could... well, actually, she  _could_  now! Ariel wrapped her arms around Sherlock and pulled him into a kiss. At first he was stiff, unsure of what to do, but after a moment she felt him relax and give in.

After their moment of shared joy, Ariel pulled away. She smiled at Sherlock and he noticed this one was different. The smile she gave him now was special. It was brighter, more genuine and so much more happy then any he had ever seen her wear.

 _It's me!_  Sherlock realized with a start. He was the reason she was smiling like this. Sherlock filled with pride as he realized that he was the only one who could elicit that smile from her. In return, Sherlock smiled down on her with one of his biggest and most genuine grins.

Sherlock held Ariel in his arms for a long moment. He couldn't believe how lucky he was. How could a woman like this, talented, beautiful, smart, want to be with him? But she did, and he would have it no other way.

"You do realize that we will not be like other 'normal' couples." Sherlock said as he cradled Ariel against his chest. He felt her smile.  
"As long as you love me and show it, I will be happy. And I will be yours." Ariel said, pulling away from Sherlock to look him in the eyes again.

"But you know me. There won't be dinner dates, at least not normal ones. And you know that I detest going to the cinema..." Sherlock drawled, making sure Ariel understood just what he meant. But Ariel held a finger to his lips and gently silenced him.

"I don't need dinner dates, or nights out to the cinema to make me happy." Ariel said, smiling. Sherlock removed her finger from in front of his lips.  
"I just want you to understand what you are getting into before you decide to go through with it." Sherlock said, his matter-of-factly voice concealing a worried mind. Ariel smiled gently.

"You have such a big heart." Ariel said admiringly. Sherlock smirked sadly.  
"I've been reliably informed that I don't have one." He stated, memories flashing through his head, bitter and cold and hurtful. Ariel must have noticed, because she put her hand on his neck and stroked him gently.

"That's not true." She said, shaking her head lightly. "Right there, in the centre if that big brain of yours," she tapped his head, "there is your heart. Surrounded by all your logic and science, but it's still there. And it is the biggest heart I have ever seen." She smiled at him, another of her genuine smiles and he knew, he just knew, she meant every word she had just said.

"Thank you." He whispered before nuzzling into her shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, did you love it? Or hate it? Or something in between? Remember, my story will only continue if you tell me what you think! Please leave a review!


	27. The Morning After

**Chapter XXVII**

Ariel felt herself becoming conscious. She must have been in a deep sleep. Lazily, she opened her eyes to check the time, but she was startled wide awake by what she found.

Instead of being in Johns bedroom, she found herself curled up on the sofa. More then that, she was cuddled up on Sherlocks chest! Flash backs of last night flooded her mind, the emotions, the kisses, their conversation, everything.

Ariel sat up and looked at Sherlock, adrenaline pumping through her veins. As much as she wanted to believe that last night had really happened, there was a part of her that nagged away in the back of her mind saying " _He doesn't love you. How could he ever love you?_ ". And no matter how hard she tried to push that thought aside, it always returned. The doubt sitting in the pit of her stomach hurt.

While Ariel fought her internal battle, Sherlock began to stir. Soon, he was rubbing his eyes and yawning, surprised he had even slept at all. He usually didn't sleep when he was on a case. Then again, he also didn't normally kiss women and tell them he was in love with them either. It had been a strange night for him.

"Morning." Sherlock mumbled as he continued rubbing his eyes. Ariel suddenly realized he was awake and smiled down at him.  
"Morning." She said in a low voice. She absentmindedly moved a wayward strand of Sherlocks hair out of his face.

She traced her fingers down his cheek.  _He's so handsome_. She thought as she smiled. Sherlock was enjoying the attention, having her completely devoted to him. Though he still could not see through the barriers that she had put up, he could see her defences lowering. She trusted him more and more with her feelings after last night and he could see that.

Something in Sherlock had been moved to know just what she was hiding, but now that desire was coupled with another - how can he help her with what she was hiding?

"Tea?" Ariel asked. Sherlock smiled.  
"Yes, please." He responded. He lay stock still as Ariel leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Sherlock was still unused to so much physical contact.

"Alright." Ariel said as she got up and walked to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Sherlock continued to lay on the sofa, contemplating what had happened last night. He thought about what he had said, and tried to find out if he had lied. With a freshly rested and clear mind, he could see that he had meant everything he had said to her last night. Sherlock really did love her.

And when he thought over her reactions and her words, he knew Ariel felt the same. For one night, they were both completely honest with each other, even if they were stumbling around in the dark.

Sherlock wondered what all this meant. Did it mean he had to take her out to dinner now? Did they have to be romantic? Did they have they have to kiss more often? Sherlock couldn't honestly say he was opposed to kissing, but he could see it becoming a bit tedious if he was expected to do it all the time. He figured he'd have to ask John these questions when he returned. After all, he was more knowledgable in this area.

Ariel was waiting patiently for the kettle to boil, making toast for Sherlock and herself while she waited. She knew he probably wouldn't eat it, but it helped to distract her mind. It was a whirlwind of thought, each one bleeding into the next like running colours.

Elation, doubt, joy, happiness, sadness, fear all rushed through her brain, never staying long enough for Ariel to figure out why she felt it. If there was one thing for certain though, it was that she had woken up cuddling Sherlock and he seemed just as happy about it as she was.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the kettle yelling angrily at her. She jumped out of her thoughts and attended to the kettle. A minute later, Ariel walked out of the kitchen and set the tray down on the little coffee table.

Sherlock sat up so that Ariel had room to sit on the sofa. Ariel handed Sherlock his tea before sitting down beside him, her hand curled around her cup.

"So... about last night..." Ariel started, staring at her cup.  
"Yes, what about last night?" Sherlock asked, an irrational fear of being told she didn't love him jumping into his mind. He watched as Ariel took a deep breath before starting again.

"Do you really love me?" She asked, tearing her gaze from her cup to stare into Sherlocks eyes. He saw fear and worry and... was that pain?  
"Yes, more then anyone I've ever known." Sherlock said. It was true. He had stayed up late into the night thinking about it, studying his feelings. That statement was the conclusion he had come to.

"Really?" Ariel asked, and Sherlock saw a spark of hope that burned away the fear and worry and pain in her eyes.  
"Really." Sherlock said, a smile growing on his face. Ariel smiled back at him before briefly glancing down at her hands.

"Should I say it as well? Or can you deduce it from me?" Ariel asked, her playfulness coming out as she looked back up at him. Sherlock chuckled.  
"I can tell you feel the same way. You looked relieved when I said really." Sherlock said, smiling fondly at her. She returned it.

They sat there for a moment before Ariel slowly closed her eyes and leaned in towards Sherlock. She had every intention of kissing him and he didn't seemed to mind it either, that was, until the door opened revealing a very annoyed looking Lestrade.

Ariel kept her now wide eyes fixed on Sherlock, fully aware of what this must have looked liked to the Detective Inspector. Sherlock just sat up straight and addressed the intruder.

"What do you want Lestrade?" He said in a gruff, annoyed tone. The DI took a moment to respond, his eyes darting between the still leaning Ariel and Sherlock. Eventually he shook his head and began.

"Another bomb. This time down in Southwark. Same type of... mutilated remains found as well." Lestrade informed them. By this time, Ariel was sitting upright and properly in her seat though she refused to make eye contact with Lestrade. Sherlock nodded.

"And I suppose you want us to inspect the crime scene." He asked the DI.  
"Actually, I was rather hoping you would have another lead for me by now. But I can see that you were a bit... preoccupied." Lestrade answered with humour, a devilish grin on his face. Ariel felt her cheeks go red.

Sherlock and herself were in the same clothes they had worn yesterday, which Lestrade had seen them in. Adding to that, Sherlocks hair was a tangled mess, while Ariel had managed to get most of hers fixed up while waiting for the kettle earlier, and that there was a blanket in a crumpled pile on the floor next to the sofa. It was clear to anyone with eyes that they had slept together on the sofa that night.

"For your information, I do have a lead. And I know just where you should look." Sherlock answered. At that moment, Ariel's phone decided to go off.  
"Excuse me, I have to take this." She said, quickly scurrying up to Johns room. She heard Sherlocks muffled voice as she closed the door and answered the phone.

"Hello, sir." She said, her face forced to show no emotion so as not to let it seep into her voice.  
"I see that you've already anticipated my next move and gone ahead with it. You are to be commended on how well it went." The mans voice that terrified Ariel said.

"My emotions are not a plaything of yours. You do not own them. And you cannot expect me use them to hurt him." Ariel said, stone faced but feeling rage, pain, guilt and sorrow rise in her stomach.  
"Oh come on now. You will do what I say or he dies, remember? I promise you he will, and I always keep my promises." The mans voice chuckled out, tormentingly.

"I know, sir." Ariel said, her heart breaking in her chest. She couldn't live knowing she was the reason he died.  
"Good. Now, the next step of my plan is simple. Be your beautiful, intoxicating self and keep him coming after you." The mans voice said.

"Yes, sir." Ariel said, trying to keep her tone as level as possible.  
"Now there's a good girl. And remember, if you mess up, Sherlock dies." A menacing laugh erupted from the man on the phone before he hung up. Ariel slumped against the wall, completely spent.  _How am I ever going to do this?_  She wondered desperately. She needed a way out of this, but as far as she could see, there was none.

After heaving a heavy sigh, Ariel collected herself together and went back down stairs. Lestrade had left and Sherlock was still sitting on the sofa, hands steepled under his chin.

"Well?" Ariel asked as she stood looking at Sherlock.  
"Shut up, I'm thinking." Sherlock snapped. Ariel shrugged, collected her tea and grabbed her laptop. Sitting at the kitchen table, she opened her laptop and checked her emails.

Nothing interesting, just a quick note from John asking her to pick up a few things before he came home. Ariel grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and scribbled out the list:

 _Milk_  
Strawberry Jam  
Bread  
Eggs  
Biscuits  
Butter

Ariel looked up and read the last line of the email. " _And tell Sherlock, if he hasn't already, to get rid of any body parts in the fridge. That's the last thing I need to come home to_." Ariel giggled to herself. To be honest, she didn't mind the body parts in the fridge. She had gotten used to them. But John obviously didn't like them, so she'd have to tell Sherlock to dispose of them.

Ariel lamented having to leave 221B. She would miss Sherlock, how he played violin at two in the morning when he was bored, or how he ignored her when they sat in silence in the living room.

She would miss the body parts in the fridge, or finding a dead animal in the shower. But most of all, she would miss the feeling of being home. In less then two weeks, this flat had become more of a home to her then the one she would be returning to.

Even though she had lived there for a year and a half, it still never felt like home. But this flat did, because there was someone here who cared about her. Ariel's thoughts returned to the night before.

She knew there was still some rather awkward conversations ahead as they worked out their relationship, but to know that Sherlock wanted her was more then enough to make her want to try.

Like Sherlock, love had never really been Ariel's area of expertise. She was more comfortable when she didn't have to bare her soul. She rather enjoyed being wrapped up in an alternate personality, a disguise, hiding from the world.

But Sherlock was quickly breaking down her barriers and she knew it was only a matter of time before he broke through that last wall. The question was, would he still love her after he had? She shuttered to think of what would happen.

Ariel was jolted from her thoughts as her mobile vibrated in her pocket. Hurriedly, she took it out of her pocket, checking the text. Her heart sank as she read it, over and over again. And each time she read it, she became more distraught.

Four simple words were staring back at her, along with a signature.

" _We need to talk. - MH_ "


	28. Everything You Know

**Chapter XXVIII**

"Where are you going?" Sherlocks voice asked curiously as Ariel hurriedly put on her coat and grabbed her purse, tucking her mobile into her pocket. She was flustered, and Sherlock could tell.

"I'm just popping out for a bit. John asked me to pick up some things before he comes home and I better do it now while I'm thinking about it." She said, forcing a smile and holding up the list she had made for Sherlock to see. Sherlock seemed to settle, but he still didn't believe that was the reason for her state of being.

"Fine. But be careful please. I'll probably be out when you get back." Sherlock said as Ariel strode towards the door.  
"I will. Text me when you leave, please." Ariel said and then gave Sherlock a real smile. That put Sherlock at ease as Ariel flounced out of the flat and into the busy street below.

As soon as Ariel had closed the door, Sherlock leapt up and ran to the window to watch Ariel depart. Maybe that would tell him where she was really heading. But much to Sherlocks disappointment, Ariel headed out towards the nearest Tesco's. Sherlock sighed and let the curtain fall as he picked up his violin and began playing.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel knew full well that she had not done a great job of covering up her panic. She knew Sherlock would be looking for any clues that would tell him what had gotten her so worked up, like watching her leave. For that reason, she head towards Tesco's, feeling that at least if he was watching that he wouldn't glean any information from that.

After she was out of sight of the flat, she took a right onto a busier road. She walked down the streets until a sleek black Rolls Royce Phantom pulled up alongside her. The back door popped open, seemingly of its own accord. Ariel knew better then to be scared of it though, this was how Mycroft worked. With smoke and mirrors, intimidation and power play, digression and silence.

Ariel got into the car and as soon as she had shut the door, they were off. Ariel glanced at the woman seated beside her.

"Hello again, Not Rebecca." Ariel said in a faked cheery tone. The woman rolled her eyes and groaned as she tapped away on her blackberry.  
"Mr. Holmes even told you my real name, yet you still choose to call me "Not Rebecca"." She said annoyed. Ariel smirked to herself. At least she wasn't the only one in a foul mood.

"Where am I meeting him this time?" Ariel asked, gazing distractedly out the window, simple watching the London streets pass by.  
"He didn't say." The woman seated beside her said, and Ariel didn't have to look over to know that she had a satisfied grin on her face. They fell into a mutual silence.

After near twenty minutes of driving, they were in a part of London that was mainly storage centres, warehouses and old factories. The car pulled up outside a particularly desolate looking building. Ariel sighed.  _Mycroft sure loves his dramatic flare_. She thought as she climbed out of the car and surveyed the building.

Three stories tall, this giant concrete building loomed over her, crushing her with its very presences. Ariel didn't wait for directions from Not Rebecca, she just strode up to the building and walked through the front doors.

At one point in time, this building must have been a huge warehouse, filled with all sorts of goods. But now it was completely desolated. Nothing but the tall concrete walls stood in the building.

It smelt damp, but Ariel couldn't hear any water. It was cold and poorly lit, the unrelenting concrete floor stretching for hundreds of feet in every direction. And stood in what would seem to be the very centre of it was one Mycroft Holmes.

"Good Morning." Mycroft said cheerfully, leaning on his lavish umbrella.  
"Morning" Ariel said curtly, waiting for Mycroft to inform her of the reason for which she was here. After several moments of silence, Ariel decided to speak.

"Flare for dramatics, I see. Couldn't have found a dark or bigger abandoned building, could you?" Ariel said, a light chuckle escaping her lips. Mycrofts eyes narrowed.

"I did not ask you here to have you make fun of my choices." He said sternly.  
"Then why did you ask me here?" Ariel asked bluntly. She hated playing games with the elder Holmes.

"I just wanted to check up. I hear John is coming home in three days, how lovely." Mycroft said pleasantly, obviously trying to make small talk.  
"If this were merely a social call, I doubt it would be taking place here. So please, Mycroft, what would you like?" Ariel tried again.

"Strange thing. I merely invite you here to speak and catch up, and all I get is the cold shoulder. What have I done?" Mycroft says, twisting his umbrella under his hand with a smirk on his face. Ariel could feel the rage welling up in her.

"What do you want Mycroft?" Ariel huffed, making clear how annoyed she was with him.  
"I just wanted to have a chat." Mycroft said, sly as a fox. Ariel had had enough of him and his game. She turned around and began walking away from him.

"I can help you, you know." She heard Mycroft's deceptively calm and cool voice ring out through the concrete building. Ariel felt her heart drop as she stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him slowly.

"What could I possible need your help for?" Ariel asked, trying desperately to keep her cool.  
"I know about him. The man you're working for. I also know your not working for him willingly." Mycroft said, cocking his head in a 'So, why are you?' manner. Ariel keep silent, listening. She didn't trust her voice right now.

"Why is it you would rather pass on information about Sherlock to a stranger then to his own brother?" Mycroft asked, ever the gentleman. Ariel glanced away.  
"Because he threatened the one thing I have left." Ariel said quietly, thinking back to that first phone call as tears threatened her eyes.

"I am willing and able to help you." Mycroft said calmly. Ariel's head snapped up to glare at him.  
"Why would you want to help me? I got myself into this mess and I should have to deal with the consequences!" Ariel practically yelled at Mycroft. Ariel looked sorrowfully down at the ground, her anger spent.

The eldest Holmes gently replied,  
"Because he threatened what you and I care for most, and I cannot afford to loose him again." Ariel nodded, on the verge of tears.

"I didn't want to..." She whispered, trailing of as her voice broke.  
"I know. He made you. But if you wish to have my help, I am offering it now. And you can rest assured I will do my best to protect my brother and you from harm." Mycroft said kindly.

Ariel glanced at him, studying his face. He seemed genuinely interested in helping her out of the grave she had dug herself. And she was not going to refuse him.

"Please. Help me." Ariel said in a low voice as tears threatened her eyes. She would not cry in front of Mycroft, she would not give him that pleasure. But she was happy knowing he could see just how much this was affecting her. Mycroft nodded again and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.  
"Tell me everything you know."

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlock flopped himself back down onto the sofa with a groan.  _Where was she?_  He wondered. Ariel had been gone close to two hours now. This was very unlike her. Sherlock sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the sofa and using the momentum he had to push himself up to stand. Once again he began pacing the room.

An hour ago, he had hacked into her laptop and read through her emails to see if they had been what had set her whizzing off. But the only thing he found was an email from John with a list of shopping for her to do. There was also a note at the bottom directed to Sherlock, but he ignored that. It was irrelevant.

Two things were bothering Sherlock. The first was what was taking Ariel so long? Was she ok? Had she been hurt?

Second, why did he care? Sherlock knew that even though he was different from most people, he still had emotions. That was clear when he had cried for John on top of St. Bart's the day he jumped. Sherlock cared about the well being of his friends, even if he didn't show it. But this was a different kind of caring. He was worried sick about her. He felt like there was a rock in his stomach, he felt nauseas and on edge. There was something wrong with him, but he couldn't figure out what.

Just as Sherlock paced the living room for the hundredth time (he had, after all, been counting) Ariel opened the door. Sherlock snapped right out of his funk and ran to meet her. She giggled as he skidded to a stop right in front of her.

"Missed me that much?" She giggled as she shed her coat and put away her bag.  
"Yes." Sherlock said, beaming from ear to ear at her. She returned the smile.  
"Did you eat?" Ariel asked as she moved towards the kitchen with a bag of groceries. Sherlock winced. He hadn't had all of his tea and he never even touch his toast. He let his unspoken words permeate the air for a long moment.

"I take that as a no then." Ariel chuckled as she leaned against the kitchen doorframe. Even though her smile and laughter was genuine, Sherlock could see that she had raised her barriers again.  
"I was a bit preoccupied." Sherlock said.  _Worrying about you_. He added mentally.

"Alright, but you should eat some-" Ariel started saying, but was cut off by the sound of Sherlocks mobile going off. Quickly, Sherlock answered it.  
"Hello?...Ah, Lestrade... Good... Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can." Sherlock said before hanging up.

"Lestrade?" Ariel asked, still in the doorframe. Sherlock nodded.  
"He caught the man I told him about this morning. Wants me to come down and question him. Took them long enough." Sherlock said, mumbling the last part under his breath. Ariel giggled. Leave it to Sherlock to demand speed.

"Who was he in relation to the bombing?" Ariel asked curiously.  
"Oh, he was the man who mutilated and placed the remains. Dr. Evan L. Hart. He's a rather young pathologist who works at Wellington. Easy enough to get dead bodies when you work in a morgue, so no murders. Still, he is connected to the bombers." Sherlock spewed, happy to have someone to listen to all his facts.

"Sherlock, there's something odd I've noticed about these two bombings." Ariel said, her face scrunched up as she thought. Sherlocks heart leaped. For once, was she going to be ahead of him?

"Both the bombings took place over a normal meal time. The first one was at about half past noon and this last one was at half past eight. And another thing, no one was harmed in either of the explosions. I mean, if you blew up a building, wouldn't you want someone to get hurt?" Ariel asked. She was right! Both of those things were odd.

Sherlock looked at her as his mind registered what this information could mean.  
"Yes!" He exclaimed as he ran over to Ariel. He placed his hands on either side of her head, forcing her to stare into his eyes.  
"Ariel, you're incredible!" Sherlock said before planting a kiss on Ariel's forehead and rushing off to get the photographs from the crime scene. Ariel's cheeks went a dark red.


	29. Angelo's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my wonderful, amazing, fantastic readers! Well, here is the next chapter. It is mostly fluff, so enjoy! Please leave a comment and THANK YOU!

**Chapter XXIX**

"Lestrade, I am handing you, on a silver platter, the key to this whole case and you're telling me "it's not my division"?!" Sherlock raged at the inspector. Ariel noticed a few turned heads and awkward glances directed at them.

"No Sherlock, that's not what I said. What I said was I can't help you. Williams has taken over the case. I'm not supposed to be involved anymore." Lestrade said, calmly. Sherlock ran his fingers through his hair exasperatedly, taking a few quick steps before turning and walking back to his spot.

"Lestrade, you know I can't deal with Williams. He's an idiot. Can't you step in, just this once?" Sherlock pleaded in a quieter tone. Lestrade sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I can make a request, but it's still up to Williams to decide whether he wants you or not. I can't make him." Lestrade said with a sigh. Sherlock nodded sharply and spun around with a flourish of his coat. Just before he left the room though, he stopped, spun on his heels and looked right at Lestrade.

"Thank you." He said with a brief smile before flouncing out the door again. Ariel moved to follow him, but was stopped when the DI commented to her,  
"You've had quite the effect on him. Normally, he would have just run out."  
Ariel smiled at Lestrade.

Whatever she was planing on saying next was lost to the wind because Sherlocks voice rang out through the whole floor,  
"Ariel? Are you coming?"  
A small blush covered Ariel's cheeks as she heard a few snickers coming from around the office floor. But squaring her shoulders, she stood up tall and walked towards Sherlock who was standing at the elevator.

"No need to yell next time. I was right there." Ariel said once they were inside the elevator. Sherlock remained silent. Ariel glanced over at him, checking to see if he was ok. Normally, Sherlock would have had some snarky remark, but he hadn't made one. When she looked over though, she discovered the reason why.

Sherlock was lost to the halls of his mind palace, either storing or retrieving information. Ariel sighed knowing her comment had probably gone unnoticed. The door to the elevator opened on the ground floor, but Sherlock was still in his mind palace, blissfully unaware that they had arrived at their destination.

"Sherlock." Ariel said quietly, trying to get his attention. Nothing.  
"Sherlock." She tried again, louder and this time shaking him by the shoulder. Still nothing. She took a deep breath, people could see. But she didn't care.  
"Sherlock." She whispered into his ear and intertwined their fingers. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Sherlocks eyes flew open.

"What?" He asked, unlacing his fingers from Ariel's and taking back his hand. He noticed she looked a bit hurt by his actions, but she recovered quickly. She lead the way out of the elevator and out the front doors of Scotland Yard.

For once, Ariel was out before Sherlock, hailing a cab and shivering. It was colder today, fall was well underway and it was nearly time for winter to start. Sherlock watched as Ariel hailed the cab, it pulling up on the curb alongside her. He could see her shivering. He climbed in the cab behind Ariel.

"Would you like to go out for lunch? My treat." Sherlock said. Ariel smiled up at him.  
"That would be lovely." She said contently, cuddling against Sherlock and resting her head on his shoulder. As awkward as he felt, Sherlock was happy to have her so close to him. Why? He had no idea, but he just couldn't seem to get enough of her.

"26 Northumberland Street, please." He called to the cabbie. He got a swift nod in return. Ariel wound her arm through Sherlocks, seemingly testing the boundaries.

"Where are we going?" Ariel asked from her spot at Sherlocks side.  
"Angelo's. Nice place, decent food. You'll like it there." Sherlock said. Ariel hummed into his shoulder.

She was so tired. Her escapade with Mycroft this morning, and then a disaster with the shopping, had worn her out mentally and emotionally. She was looking forward to a quiet meal, then back to the flat. Maybe Sherlock would let her use him as a pillow again... Ariel let her mind wander to thoughts of rest and Sherlock until they arrived at the restaurant.

Hopping out, Sherlock paid the driver and then lead Ariel inside the small, but homey restaurant.  
"Sherlock! There you are! Haven't seen you in ages. Where's that doctor fellow of yours?" A larger, greying headed man said with a large grin on his bearded face as he approached Sherlock. Sherlock gingerly shook the mans outstretched hand.

"John's out of town." Sherlock answered. Suddenly, the other man noticed Ariel and his smile grew wider as he said,  
"And who's your beautiful friend, Sherlock?" Ariel blushed a little, but stuck out her hand to shake his.

"This is Ariel. Ariel this is Angelo." Sherlock said, making the introductions.  
"How do you do, miss?" Angelo said, taking her hand and giving it a small kiss. Ariel went really red at that and she caught just the faintest shimmer of anger from Sherlock.

"Come on, table's this was!" Angelo said cheerfully, before turning and heading towards a nearby table. He gestured for them to sit before dashing away.  
"He's nice." Ariel commented out loud. Sherlock hummed in agreement, looking out the window.

Sherlock loved to study people. Ariel had found that out. He would often get distracted when he could look out a window and could see dozens of people. He'd deduced them, but since he couldn't hear what they were saying, he couldn't say they were idiots till he had. On the other side, they couldn't take offence to what he deduced because they couldn't hear his remarks. So it was a win-win scenario, except for when Sherlock really should be paying attention to Ariel.

"Here you two go." Angelo said, returning with a couple menus. Ariel smiled in thanks.  
"Can I get you anything? Drinks? Candle for the table? Small, romantic?" Angelo asked cheerily. Ariel went visibly redder, but Sherlock was still lost in his thoughts. Angelo left them, returning a minute later with a small lit candle and what Ariel hoped were two sodas. He then left them alone.

Ariel studied her menu, enjoying the peace she felt within herself. The relief of Mycroft knowing and helping her with her burden was incredible. She hadn't even realized that it had been crushing her. But now, even though the fight was far from over, she felt lighter, happier, like nothing could destroy her moment. That was, until Sherlock spoke.

"We need to talk about this." He said, still looking out the window. Ariel felt her heart, which only moments ago was light as a feather, sink like a rock to the pit of her stomach.

"About what?" She asked, trying to keep the conversation light. Sherlock tore his gaze off the window and locked eyes with Ariel. His bore into her, she felt like she couldn't escape his gaze.

"I don't know what I'm doing." Sherlock said bluntly. Ariel looked a bit shocked.  
"Well, if... if you don't want to...to do this, we don't have to..." She stuttered out, a bit taken back by Sherlocks words. She didn't know how to respond.

"No, I want to. But I don't know what I'm doing." Sherlock said, this time slower. Realization dawned on Ariel's face and the worry melted away into laughter.  
"Oh, you mean you don't know how. I can help you with that." She said with a smile and a giggle. Sherlock look relieved that she had understood what he meant.

"Just do what feels right and it will be ok." Ariel added, placing her hand on top of Sherlocks and giving it a gentle squeeze. At that moment, Angelo decided to come take their order. Ariel and Sherlock placed their orders. Once Angelo left again, an awkward silence hung in the air, almost like they were afraid to say something.

"Ariel, I think there is something you should know about me." Sherlock started nervously. Why was he nervous about this?  
"Yes?" Ariel said, taking his hand again, reassuring him that it was ok to go on.

"I'm not like other people. I don't know how to be romantic, what to say or what to do in these situations. I am unsure of what the social etiquette is in a relationship, as I have never had one in which I was interested in maintaining. Also, I am aware of my lack of humility to ask for advice on such matters." Sherlock stated factually.

He found that when he retreated into his normal clinical tone, it was easier to say these things, though he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do. But he must have done something right, because the warmhearted smile on Ariel's face made him melt.

"I appreciate your honesty, Sherlock. And honestly, that's all I want from you. I want you to be honest with me. I want you to feel that you can tell me anything, because you can." Ariel said, giving Sherlocks hand another squeeze.

"Now, I don't believe that you don't know what to do, because so far, you've done everything right. As for social etiquette, I've never liked playing by the rules." A playful grin crept on to her face. "And as for advice... well, I think we can work it out, hmm?" Ariel said, a broad smile on her face and her hand wrapped up in Sherlocks. He felt a smile creep over his face and he did something he didn't usually do.

"You're amazing." He said in his low baritone voice. Love and awe dripped out of his tone. Ariel revelled in his words, they were worth more to her then anything in the world.

A few minutes later, their food arrived. Ariel dug in hungrily, ready to eat. Sherlock picked at the edges if his food, still watching the people go by.  
"So," Ariel said around a mouthful of her sandwich, "How exactly are we going to catch the bombing thieves?"

"Well, the only meal time they have left to bomb on is supper. Standard supper time is between six and seven o'clock. If the pattern continues, the bombing will happen day after tomorrow. Now, what did they steal the first time?" Sherlock said, stating facts.

"The Royal Jewels." Ariel said in a low voice.  
"And the second time they targeted a vet in Southwark where two of the Queen's corgis were being held. Coincidentally, they are both missing while none of the other animals or people were harmed." Sherlock said. Ariel's eyes opened with realization.

"Someone's targeting the royal family?!" She exclaimed, both a question and a statement. Sherlock nodded.  
"I've asked Mycroft to find the location of the next possible target." He said, though the disdain for his brother was evident.  
"Won't they target Buckingham Palace next?" Ariel asked before taking another bite of her sandwich.

"No. To many guards, security cameras and bystanders. No, they want to get a message to the Queen, but they don't want to hurt anybody. Why?" Sherlock mused out loud.  
"Well, maybe if their all young like they guy we caught yesterday, then they don't want blood on their hands?" Ariel suggested, trying to help. But Sherlock was once again lost to the halls of his endless mind palace, so her suggestion fell on deaf ears. She shrugged and went back to eating.

"Something doesn't add up." Sherlock mumbled, returning to the real world.  
"What?" Ariel asked, sipping her soda.  
"The mutilated bodies. What do they have to do with the royal family?" Sherlock said.

Ariel smiled because she knew this was where her knowledge, and normally Johns, of news events and other popular topics came in handy.  
"Then you obviously haven't watched the news." She said. Sherlock looked confused. "This is an elaborate protest." Ariel said, and Sherlock nodded, understanding.

Sherlocks mobile buzzed and the text read.

_You're on the case - GL_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Not enough fluff? Leave a comment and tell me what you think!


	30. The Song

**Chapter XXX**

Sherlock guided Ariel back into 221b. Despite their rather awkward conversation at the beginning of lunch, it had done nothing but get better from there. Sherlock was in a wonderful mood thanks to the text from Lestrade and even though Ariel was tired, she was happy. Ariel wandered over and sat herself on the sofa, drawing her feet up beside her.

Sherlock flounced into the kitchen to check on a few if his experiments. When he came back, he stood in the doorway and smiled at Ariel. She was curled up on the sofa, feet tucked under her and head propped up on her arm. She looked tired. Sherlock walked over and sat himself down beside her.

"How are you?" He asked gently. Ariel smiled sleepily.  
"I'm alright, just a bit tired." She replied. She reached out her free hand and took Sherlocks. Ariel stroked it lazily with her thumb.  
"Would you care for some music?" Sherlock asked, his voice a soft baritone growl. Ariel's smile grew wider and her eyes looked more awake as they twinkled in delight.

"Yes please." She whispered back. Sherlock smiled and leapt off the sofa. He darted towards where his violin lay, tucked safely in its case, just behind his armchair. He popped open the latch and gentle took his violin out of its velvet bed. Standing straight up again, Sherlock tucked the violin under his chin and raised the bow to meet the strings.

He paused for a second, deciding what to play and then when he had chosen a piece, he began to play. The sweet notes he produced as he slid the bow across the violins strings filled the air. Ariel watched his fingers move across the violins fretboard, each one knowing its place. She marvelled at his precision with half closed eyes.

Ariel wasn't all that good with music, but after a few bars she recognized the tune. Her father used to play this song on his vintage record player when she was a little girl. He had taught her how to slow dance to this song in their old living room. Bittersweet memories crossed her mind, but she pushed them aside as she watched Sherlock. Nothing could be allowed to spoil this moment for her.

Sherlock danced and swayed with the music, losing himself to the consistent string of melodious notes. He always put himself into his music, it was a passion of his that had never bored him. As the song drew to its completion, Ariel waited for him to drop his bow. But that moment never came.

Instead, Sherlock seamlessly moved into another piece. Ariel smiled to herself as she continued to watch Sherlock play, moving with the melody he now played. Though the overall song was slow, quiet and calm, it had its own peaks and valleys, climbing to beautiful crescendos only to gently fall back down to a mellow tone.

Ariel quite enjoyed it, even though she didn't recognize the piece. Slowly, she let her eyes fall closed, still listening dreamily. Eventually, despite her fight, she fell asleep.

Sherlock stopped playing his tune when he heard the soft, steady breathing of a sleeping Ariel. He knew which one of her breathing patterns meant she was asleep. He had studied them. Sherlock quietly put his violin away, put a blanket on Ariel and went to the kitchen to do some experimenting.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel woke up to her phone vibrating loudly in her pocket. Blearily, she open her eyes and reached for her mobile. She pulled it out and noticed that she was gently tucked under a blanket on the sofa. Memories of Sherlock playing one of the most beautiful pieces of music she had ever heard drifted through her mind. She smiled to herself.

Rubbing her eyes, she opened the text message she had just received. Well, to be more accurate, she had received six texts in rapid succession. Blinking to get her eyes in focus, she read them.

"Hey, how are you? -JW"  
"Sherlock bothering you? -JW"  
"Am I interrupting something? -JW"  
"You there? -JW"  
"Hello? Ariel? -JW"  
"Are you alright? -JW"

Ariel smiled. There was John, always worried about them. She quickly typed her reply.  
"I'm good. You just woke me up from a nap. No, Sherlocks not bothering me. No, you aren't interrupting anything. And yes, I'm alright. How about yourself? -AH"

As she waited for the reply, she sat up and stretched. Sleeping on the sofa two times in a row hadn't done her back any favours. Johns reply was fast though, so it took her mind off how stiff she was.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. I'm fine. Ready to come home. Glad I've only got a couple more days to go. -JW"  
"No, it's fine. I needed to get up. Glad to hear. I think Sherlocks missed you. -AH"

As she sent the text, Ariel looked around for the consulting detective. She couldn't see him from where she sat, so she stood up and wandered to the kitchen. There he was, wrapped up in one of his experiments, staring into his microscope. He looked up at Ariel as her phone chimed in her hand and she read her latest text.

"Haha. Sherlock? Miss me? I don't think so. Probably didn't even notice I'd gone. -JW"  
Ariel smiled down at the text, inwardly laughing at how ignorant John could be sometimes.

"John?" Sherlock asked, returning to his microscope.  
"Yeah." Ariel said, typing her reply.

"I don't think you know him well enough then, because he certainly did miss you. Though, I think he rather enjoyed my company. -AH"

"What is he saying?" Sherlock asked, absentmindedly. Ariel chuckled as she tucked her mobile in her pocket.  
"You can't guess, genius?" She said with a giggle as she turned the kettle on for tea. Sherlock looked up at her and frowned. Ariel tried to contain a giggle. He looked so much like a pouting five year old!

"Something about me. But what?" Sherlock deduced, his eyebrows furrowing. Ariel smiled and leaned against the counter.  
"I told him that you missed him." Ariel said, still smiling.  
"I do not!" Sherlock exclaimed. Ariel just snickered.

"You do too. I may not have learned much in the time I've spent with you, but I did notice how relieved you looked when I told you John was coming home." Ariel stated, amused at the detectives denial. Sherlock just huffed and returned to his microscope.

"Yeah, he does seem to enjoy your company, otherwise I wouldn't have left you with him. He tends to scare off most people. -JW"  
"Well, thank you for that trust. He doesn't scare me and I don't think he ever will. -AH"

Ariel turned the kettle off and poured two cups of tea. She made hers and Sherlocks the way the both liked it, respectively, and then carried the drinks to the table. She set Sherlocks down before taking a seat beside him, watching him work.

"Then you obviously haven't seen him angry. Or bored. Must go though, Harry insists on going shopping before we leave. -JW"  
"I've seen both and it's nothing I can't handle. Alright, talk to you again soon. - AH"

Ariel silently observed Sherlock, sipping her tea and feeling completely content and refreshed. Sherlock reached for his pen and notebook, not looking up from his microscope as he jotted down some notes.

"What are you working on?" Ariel asked, leaning forward to look at the fresh notes.  
"I'm cataloguing the growth of moulds on different stages of decomposing flesh." Sherlock stated bluntly, continuing to work.  
"Interesting. Good thing I wasn't hungry." Ariel giggled, not really as disturbed as she could have been.

Sherlock looked away from his microscope and cocked an eyebrow at her. Normally, if he would have said that to someone, they would have gotten as far away from him as possible. But Ariel just sat there, contently sipping her tea and smiling at Sherlock. He smiled back briefly before returning to his experiment.

A little while later when Ariel finished her tea, she still continued to watch Sherlock, reading his notes over his shoulder and generally just observing him as he worked. She would ask questions and Sherlock would answer. After a while though, while Sherlock was adjusting his microscope again with a fresh Petri dish under it, Ariel rested her head against Sherlocks shoulder. On instinct, Sherlock tensed up, unused to the contact. But after a moment, he relaxed and went back to work.

"Sherlock?" Ariel asked from her spot on his shoulder. He remained silent and waited for her to continue.  
"What was the song you played for me earlier? On your violin?" She asked. Sherlock smiled as he continued working on his project.

"At first I played Clair de Lune, which I thought you might enjoy. But I don't think that is the one you were referring too. That one was my own composition. I thought it suited the moment." He said fondly. Really, he had been making it up on the spot, putting his emotions and talent into a tune that he felt fit Ariel.

"Really?" Ariel asked, surprised that his many talents would include composing music. She sat upright and stared at Sherlock. He gave a sideways glance and a small smile at her before returning to work.

"It was beautiful." Ariel praised, resting her head back down on Sherlocks shoulder. "Do... do you think that... maybe, you could play it again?" Ariel stuttered out after a minute of silence.

"Of course." Sherlock said, writing down another observation in his notebook. Sherlock felt Ariel smile into his shoulder.  
"Thank you." She whispered. She placed a light kiss to his cheek and then stood up to take away their cups from earlier.

As she washed the dishes, Sherlock finished his experiment. Getting up, he walked over to his violin, picked it up and began to play the song again. Ariel quietly sat herself down in one of the armchairs, inthralled with the tune Sherlock was playing.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out her mobile and turned on the voice recorder feature. She sat and listened, eyes closed and swaying gently. Sherlock ended the piece and Ariel clapped. Sherlock did a short bow before putting his violin away.

As he walked over to sit in his armchair, he heard the same notes he had just been playing echo out of Ariel's mobile. She hummed in approval, turning it off.

"Why did you record it?" Sherlock asked, slightly worried that she wouldn't ask him to play it again.  
"For the times when your not around, or to busy to play it for me." She said, a reassuring smile on her face. Sherlock relaxed a bit, his fears settled. He observed Ariel for a minute in silence. The room fell into a quiet and comfortable hush.

"What are you thinking about?" Ariel asked gently. She wanted to know what went on in that big brain of his. It was a mystery to her.  
"I was thinking about how the mutilated bodies fit into the protests against animal experimentation and genetic manipulation." Sherlock said, hands in front of him.

"Really? That's it?" Ariel asked in a mocking tone with a giggle.  
"I was also thinking about how your eyes twinkle when you're excited." Sherlock replied with a sly smile.  
"Oh Sherlock." Ariel said with a small laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Comment please!


	31. Dreams and Disasters

**Chapter XXXI**

"Sherlock!" Ariel screamed as she jolted awake. She was panting, her heart raced in her chest, beads of sweat trickled down her back and tears were in her eyes as she sat upright in bed.

She had a nightmare, the remnants of which still danced tormentingly behind her eyes. She tried blinking them away as she drew deep breath after deep breath. Ariel hasn't had a nightmare this bad in ages.

Usually she could just sleep through them. But not this one. This one scared Ariel down to her very bones. It had been so real, like it had happened or was happen. There was no doubting the certain reality of it.

Ariel leaned forwarded and buried her hands in her long blonde hair trying to calm herself down. She tried to push the nightmare out of her mind, but it was impossible. The look on their faces haunted her. Exhausted and terrified, Ariel began to gently sob into the hug of her own arms. She had finally had everything she had ever wanted, but she knew it was about to be snatched away from her.

Her mind wandered back to the faces from her dream. He was there, the man, with a significantly smug grin. No matter how hard Ariel tried to fight, he demanded his twisted form of justice. The three of them, lined up in a little row as she cried and try to break free. Her father, John and Sherlock were sat on their knees, hands and feet bound with gags in their mouths.

Of all of them, Sherlock looked the most hurt, the most desperate, the most terrified. But there they were, the three men in the whole world that Ariel cared for most. The man stepped forward, gun in hand, and grinned devilishly at Ariel.

"I told you." was all he said before lifting the gun, pointing it at Sherlock and pulling the trigger. That had been the moment Ariel had woken up, twisted and tangled in the sheets, drenched in sweat and close to tears. She sat there in the middle of her bed, sobbing, wishing desperately to have it undone.

After a little while she was able to compose herself enough to go downstairs. Ariel walked, still sniffling, through the living room and into the kitchen to make herself some tea. As she waited for the water to boil, she noticed that Sherlock wasn't awake. She peered down the short hallway to Sherlocks room, where the door was firmly shut. If she listened hard enough, she could just make out faint snoring from coming from his room.

Despite her horrible dream and the twisting in her gut, she smiled to herself. He was safe, alive and actually sleeping for once. Ariel quietly sipped her tea, trying desperately to make the guilt and the pain go away. But no matter how hard she fought, her thoughts always came back to it. Worse, her mind was elaborating, adding other horrible things without her wanting it to. She felt ill, her stomach in knots.  _What am I going to do?_ She wondered.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlock awoke early the next morning. He didn't need as much sleep as everyone else. As he bounded out of his room, he was greeted by an unusual sight. Ariel was slumped over the kitchen table, barely conscious and obviously exhausted. Sherlock moved beside her to see if he could get her attention.

Before he could make another move he noticed something incredibly strange - there was a half empty bottle of whiskey and an empty tea cup sitting next to her shaking hands. Sherlock started to worry. This was definitely not normal. Gently, Sherlock shook Ariel's shoulder. Her head shot straight up and Sherlock scanned her face.

She had been crying, not recently but that night. Her eyes were red and bloodshot as a result of her drinking. The creases of her robed arm were imprinted on her face. Ariel looked utterly debauched. Sherlock didn't make any comment, but he handed her a glass of water. Ariel took it with a brief nod and downed it. When she was finished, Sherlock spoke up.

"What happened last night?" He asked. There was no reason for this to happen.  
"Bad dream." Ariel said gruffly, not wishing to talk about it. Sherlock took the hint and left her alone. Ariel hadn't fallen back asleep since, even though she was dozing. It had been one of the worst nights she had ever had. The splitting headache she had now from the liquor, combined with the twisting that was still in her gut, made her feel like she was going to vomit.

"Sherlock..." She said, reaching out to him. He caught one of her hands and held it tightly. She looked up into his grey blue eyes and everything she had spent the whole night working herself up to say disappeared. The words wouldn't come out.  
"Would you get me an aspirin?" Were the words that came out instead. Sherlock just nodded and refilled her glass and got her the pill. Ariel took it gratefully.

 _After a nap_. She thought.  _Then I'll tell him_. Ariel stood up, but immediately sat back down. There was no way she was getting to the sofa like this. Sherlock seemed to notice her movement, but made no attempt to help her.

"Sherlock? I hate to ask but, would you help me to the sofa?" She asked, embarrassed. This was not how she wanted to spend her life. Sherlock nodded, observing her for a moment, then helped her walk slowly to the sofa. Immediately, Ariel lie down and Sherlock took his usual chair. He was obviously thinking, but Ariel noticed his watchful gaze on her.

Despite how she was feeling, she smiled. Slowly Ariel began to doze and eventually, she was asleep. Sherlock listened to her raspy breathing as he wandered the halls of his mind palace, replaying everything he had observed of her this morning as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

He started with the obvious - she had been drinking, she had been up most of the night, she said she had a bad dream, she didn't want to talk about it and she had pain, though that was likely do to the alcohol in her system. The key to this whole thing was what was her dream about. Sherlock thought about her face when she first saw him.

First, there was a look of panic and then there was a look of relief. The dream must have had something to do with Sherlock, possibly him getting hurt. Sherlock thought more about her reactions, like when he held her hand. She looked as if she was testing to see if he was really there.

There were two likely scenarios then - one, Sherlock had disappeared in Ariel's dream or two, (the more likely one) Sherlock had died. He shuddered to think how he might have died in her dream, but he was deeply touched that because of it she hadn't been able to get back to sleep. She really did care, and that made Sherlock love her more.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel awoke feeling so much better. The twisting, sinking feeling in her gut was still there as she because more conscious, but it was settled a bit by seeing that Sherlock was still watching over her.

"Better?" Sherlock asked as he noticed her staring at him. She smiled.  
"Much." Ariel said, happier now. She looked at the clock. She had only been asleep for two hours. She heard the desperate cries of the kettle in the kitchen. She waited to see if Sherlock would get it, but when he made no move, she flung herself off the sofa and darted into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, she returned with two cups of steaming tea, made just the way each one liked it. Ariel cuddled back up on the sofa. Her mind drifted back to her night. Her heart began to sink in her chest as she remembered what she had to do. She steeled herself for a moment before putting down her tea and starting.

"Sherlock..." She was all she said. She saw his eyes lock on hers. And then it all went black.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel opened her eyes blearily, trying to blink away the heavy sleep she felt dragging her down. She was staring at a white ceiling, a bright light shining on her face.

"She's coming to." She heard a mans voice say from not to far away. Ariel forced her eyes open, though she felt groggy and drugged. Her heart started racing as she realized where she could be. She tried to sit up to get a better look at her surroundings, but she found herself strapped to the bed. She started to panic and began trying to break free.

"Its ok. You are safe." She heard a familiar deep baritone say from near her head. She turned to see a face that made her smile. Sherlock stood beside her hospital bed, closely watching her. No matter what the doctors said, no matter how hard they tried to get him to leave, he stood there watching her. She smiled up at him. The doctors finished examining her and then left her alone with Sherlock.

"Thank you." Ariel said, reaching out and taking Sherlocks hand. He smiled down at her.  
"You are welcome." He said simply. There was a moment of happy silence.

"What happened?" She asked, nervous about what she had been through.  
"You blacked out. Normally, a person wakes up after a few minutes, but you didn't. Mrs. Hudson called 911 while I made sure of your vitals. The ambulance came and you woke up shortly after being admitted into this room." Sherlock stated succinctly. Ariel smiled.

"How long was I out?" She asked.  
"38 minutes and 27 seconds." Sherlock said plainly. Ariel marvelled. That couldn't be right. That wasn't normal. But of course Sherlock would know, and he was right.  
"What do the doctors think it was?" She asked.  
"The doctors can't find a reason medically, so their saying its stress." Sherlock said, contempt and disgust obvious in his tone. Ariel chuckled internally.

"And what do you think it was?" Ariel asked, a wide grin on her face.  
"I think it was most likely a compound of things, exhaustion being the primary one." He began. After five minutes of ranting about the hormonal imbalances an adult female has and when in relation to the moons cycles this happens, Sherlock finally stopped talking.

"While I agree with your theory, I do believe the doctors have a point." Ariel said with a giggle. Sherlock cocked his head at her, silently asking for her to continue.  
"I've... been keeping something from you and it's put me under a lot of strain." Ariel said, swallowing hard. At that moment, a doctor came in.

"Ms. Hunt, we want to keep you in for observation for a few hours. But you're going to be moved to a private room now. A friend of yours called in and asked to have you moved." He said, checking her chart.  
"Who asked to have me moved?" Ariel asked, although she was almost sure she knew what the answer was.

"A Doctor John H. Watson." The doctor said, a smile on his face. Ariel smiled back and then was quickly moved into a private room. Once she was settled again with Sherlock by her bedside, she braced herself again to say what needed to be said.

But for the third time in a row that day, she had been interrupted. A tall, muscular man with buzzed blonde hair strode into the room, his lab coat trailing after him. He gave a devilish grin at Sherlock and Ariel.

"'Ello." Was all he said before checking over Ariel's charts. Ariel decided that if she waited any longer she might never tell Sherlock what she had done.

"Sherlock, do you trust me?" She started, looking sheepishly up at Sherlock.  
"Yes..." He said, only half paying attention. Most of his power of observation was focused on the man who had come in moments before. Ariel sighed.

"Sherlock, I need to tell you something..." She started, grabbing his hand and looking him in the eyes. She now had his full attention. All she had to do was say it, but she froze. How would she be able to do this?

"I'm going to give you some medicine now, Ms. Hunt." The doctor said. Ariel felt the pinch of a needle in her arm and then her world started to fade. She felt herself begin to move, only just slightly before she heard Sherlock yell "stop!". Then, nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and tell me whether you loved it or hated it!


	32. Falling to Pieces

**Chapter XXXII**

Ariel awoke in a place that was not unlike the hospital room she had been in earlier. She was staring at a white ceiling, there was a bright light and she was laying down. The difference was that this room was dark, dirty, old and she was lying on the tiled floor. Beside her and not to far away was where Sherlock lay.

Quickly, she moved over to him to check on him. His eyes were closed, hands steepled in front of his face, his normal thinking position. Ariel touched his shoulder gently and his eyes flew open.

"Sorry." She whispered, not wanting to be heard. Sherlock, on the other hand, didn't seem to care.  
"Do you really have to disrupt me while I'm thinking? I'm trying to figure out a way to get out of here and you interrupting isn't helping!" He said loudly, not yelling, but close enough. Ariel shrunk back, suddenly feeling very small.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly, shuffling away from him. Sherlock looked up at her from his spot on the floor. He noticed how hurt she looked. Quickly, he tried to come up with a way to fix it.

"Um, do you have any idea where we are?" Sherlock asked, sitting up and moving beside Ariel. She shook her head sorrowfully.  
"No." She said. Sherlock felt a pang of guilt as he heard the hurt in her voice.

"Do you know who might have taken us?" He asked. Again the answer was a quiet "No". Sherlock was getting frustrated now. He couldn't figure this one out.  
"Well, do you know why we're here?" He asked, a bit exasperated. He was shocked when Ariel slowly nodded her head.

"I tried to tell you before, but I couldn't. Someone forced me to relay information about you to him. I didn't want to! But... he told me he'd kill you if I didn't and Sherlock, I love you too much to let that to happen." Ariel said, her words turning it a sob as she unsuccessfully fought back tears.

Sherlock didn't know how to respond, so he sat there listening to her unsteady breathing. After a moment, he asked.

"When did he contact you?" Sherlock asked, his voice deadly quiet.  
"Just after..." Ariel said, stopping shortly to let out a bitter laugh. "Just after your brother abducted me. He called me, told me what he needed and how much he'd pay. I said no, but he threatened to kill you if I didn't or if I told anyone else. I was forced to do it. And then your brother found out..." Ariel said, but was cut off abruptly by Sherlock.

"Mycroft?!" Sherlock was appalled. His own brother had been helping Ariel, and yet neither one had told him.  
"Yes. He found out about my plight from tapping my phone, I believe. He said he'd help me. But that was only yesterday morning, I don't think he's come up with a plan yet." Ariel said. Sherlock was in a bit of shock. Usually, he could deduce all this from a person, but Ariel had hidden it so well, it made him wonder what else, if anything, she hid behind her mask.

"Do you know who he was?" Sherlock asked quietly after minute of silence. Ariel shook her head sadly. She hadn't so much as looked at Sherlock since he had told her off. But even from her profile, Sherlock could see the pangs of guilt, fear, pain and sadness on her face. And as he looked closer, he could see her mask had come off.

She wasn't hiding behind it anymore. She was laying bear all her soul for him to see how truly sorry she was. And that caused something strange to happen to Sherlock. He felt pity for her. He saw that she felt she had lost everything with the reveal of her crimes against him, but the reality was that she hadn't, because she still had him. Something in Sherlock compelled him to wrap his arm around her and draw her into a hug. Ariel buried her face in his neck, trying desperately not to cry.

"Well, I guess we'll have to find out together." Sherlock said after a moment of simply hugging her close to him, a small smile on his lips. Ariel looked up at him, eyes filled with unspilt tears and gently asked,

"Really?" In that one word, what she was actually asking was "Am I forgiven? Do you still love me?". Sherlocks smile grew a little wider as he replied to her.  
"Of course." He pulled her in for another tight hug again.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this just sweet? London's greatest detective and his little spy girlfriend. Really, you two should get a room." A mans voice said teasingly from the doorway. Sherlock felt Ariel go stiff in his arms. Sherlock peered up at the man in the door from Ariel's shoulder.

It was the same tall, muscular blonde man who was supposedly a doctor. Now, instead of a white lab coat, he wore a black muscle shirt and dark army green trousers, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. And tucked neatly in a holster on his right hip was a gun. Sherlock mentally cursed.  _Why did there always have to be guns?_

The man wandered over to the two of them. Ariel pulled away to look at the intruder, their captor. Sherlock could see her mask go up, her anger, disgust, hatred and violence displayed on high, while underneath she was quaking with fear. The man seemed to be enjoying himself, simply observing the two of them while he puffed away on his cigarette. With one quick motion, he dropped it to the ground and stamped it out. He squatted next the them, making himself eye level with them.

"Let me make this perfectly clear. One of you is going to die. The other will be held here for the rest of her days while she regrets ever letting her dirty little secret slip and killing her precious boyfriend." The man said roughly, venom and disgust dripping from his words. He stood up and strode towards the guarded door. At the last second, he stopped and spun around.

"Enjoy what time you two have left." He said maliciously, exiting the room and slamming the door shut behind him. Ariel fell back into Sherlocks arms. He felt her begin to cry into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He heard her muffled voice say as her tears soaked his shirt.  
"It's alright. We're going to get out of this. Alive. Together." His deep baritone whispered in her ear so as not to be heard by their captor. He knew he would find a way, he just had to. That wasn't just a statement, it was a promise.

**XXXXXXXX**

"Did you recognize him? Is he the one who called you?" Sherlock asked as he paced the room, thinking. That's all he could do right now, after all.  
"Yeah, he was the one who threatened me." Ariel said, sitting on the hard floor hugging herself. Ever since she had that nightmare, she felt herself falling apart. Bit by bit, everything she had worked so hard to keep together was coming undone at the seams.

Sherlock seemed to think that fact over, turning it like a pebble in his hands. After the blonde man had left, Sherlock had taken the liberty of checking their locked room for any bugs and had disposed of the ones he found.

"He was pretending to be one of your doctors at the hospital. You didn't recognize his voice then?" Sherlock asked, stopping to glance at Ariel. She was staring intently at the floor.

"No. I guess I was too focused in telling you the truth, I didn't notice." She admitted sheepishly. Sherlock went back to pacing.  
"Obviously, he wants me dead. But he didn't just shoot me. He got you to give him information. Why? So far almost everything you've told me he asked for he could have learnt from reading the paper or watching the news." Sherlock paused as realization dawned on his face. "Oh." He breathed out.

""Oh" what?" Ariel asked, getting up off the floor.  
"I understand his game now. Yes, he doesn't just want me dead, he wants to finish a job. A job started long ago." Sherlock said, hands meeting in front of his thin lips.

"You mean, this guy is trying to discredit you? Finishing what Moriarty started?" Ariel asked, moving in closer to Sherlock. They had talk about Moriarty before, about how he tried to "expose" Sherlock, about the targets, about why Sherlock had jumped.

"Yes. It's the only logical explanation of all the facts." Sherlock said as he began pacing again. "But why bring you into all this? I mean, he could have easily bugged the flat. Why did he need you?"  
"Because I was close to you? Be cause I cared? Or maybe because..." Ariel trailed off, even more of her heart falling to pieces. It couldn't, it just couldn't. What were the odds?

"Because... What?" Sherlock asked turning to Ariel. She heaved a sigh.  
"Sherlock, remember when the first bomb went off, we were out at lunch?" Ariel started, and Sherlock simply nodded.  
"Remember when you deduced me, you said that you didn't know what I did for the last ten years of my life?" Again Sherlock just nodded. Ariel sighed again before continuing.

"Well, one of the things I did was date a guy. Shocking, I know, but just listen. He was nice at first, little rough around the edges but a good man. Planning on joining the army. But I eventually found out about his dark side and it scared me. I left him, but I don't think he ever forgave me. But I couldn't stay with him. He killed people like it was game, for fun!" Ariel explained, her heart breaking at the thought of innocent people lying dead.

"What was his name? Who was he?" Sherlock asked desperately, trying to put the pieces together. Ariel looked him straight in the eyes.  
"Sebastian Moran. Extremely skilled sniper, deadly personality to match. Also, he's the man who has us locked in this room." Ariel said deadpan, though Sherlock could see her hatred and anger boiling up in her.

"Sebastian Moran? Never heard of him. Oh, I like new villains, always something to discover!" Sherlock said, excitement dazzling in his eyes. Ariel groaned.  
"Could you please focus on getting out of here before you're shot?!" Ariel shouted, annoyed. Sherlock had a tendency to let his incredible brain take over when he really should be trying to do something important, in this case, escape. He huffed a little, but focused.

"Ok, what do we know about him?" Sherlock requested.  
"He's a damn good sniper, likes the kill, wants revenge, and last I heard he was working for a private employer." Ariel stated, listing the facts she could think of. Sherlocks eyes began to dazzle again.

"That's it! Sebastian was working for Moriarty! Yes! But why does he want to avenge Moriarty?" Sherlock asked.  
"Maybe the two of them had gotten close. You know, psychopath to psychopath?" Ariel suggested. Sherlock decided not to tell her what reason he had deduced from all the facts. Instead, he leapt to a different subject.

"Ok, so we're in a locked and guarded room with no windows and one door. There is a ventilation shaft, but it is too small for either of us. We have our mobiles still, but of course there's no signal. We've taken care of the bugging systems in this room. The guards outside will likely be armed. It seems the only way out is through the door." Sherlock stated simply, articulating his thoughts.

"Through the door, huh? And how do you expect us to do that?" Ariel asked, completely amazed at how stupid that idea sounded even though it came from a genius.  
"Shut up, I haven't told you my plan yet." Sherlock said backhandedly. Ariel stopped.

"Oh? And what exactly is your plan?" She asked. Ariel was starting to feel the weight of the situation again. Sherlock gave her a brief playful grin before saying,  
"Well, first, we have to..." Sherlock began, whispering into Ariel's ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Let me know!


	33. Lying Broken

**Chapter XXXIII**

It was completely dark in the room when Sherlock awoke. He had dozed off sitting against the wall, thinking. Ariel was curled up beside him, her head resting on his thigh.

She was in a light sleep, one where the smallest move from Sherlock could wake her up. Her slow, steady breathing made Sherlock smile fondly. They had come up with a plan, Sherlock already putting bits and pieces into action. Timing was crucial.

He had kept track of when their guards changed and he could tell whether they were the same guards from a previous shift or not. Sherlock also kept track of anyone else who moved outside of their room. It seemed that the guards changed every two hours, and that there were four different sets of guards. Every third hour, another person (most likely Sebastian Moran) would come and check on the guards. Sherlock had to time this so that they wouldn't get caught by Moran, but he was the most unpredictable element in the whole equation.

Ariel shuffled in her sleep, snapping Sherlock out of his thoughts and back to her. She settled back quickly and Sherlock relaxed. She had only gone to sleep because Sherlock had forced her too. She had been hungover that morning, fainted for no reason and then she was kidnapped. Overall, it had been a rather taxing day for her.

Sherlock lightly stroked her hair, thinking about her. She had tried to warn him, to tell him, but every time she had been cut off. Sherlock remembered the look of anxiety in her eyes when she finally did tell him. She was so afraid she'd lost him that she had let her barriers fall, showing him the raging torrent of emotional turmoil she was feeling. If anything was sure, Sherlock still loved Ariel, despite her wrongs.

The more Sherlock thought about it, the more he realized that she had been given the same deal with the devil that he had - kill your friends or give him what he wants. And Sherlock knew what his choice was. He couldn't blame Ariel for her actions, in fact he admired her for the courage she had.

She was different, special, just like himself. It was so rare to find someone like that. Sherlock knew that while Ariel may not have the same level of intelligence that he had, she was above average in many ways.

Sherlock could see that she was more of an outcast then she would freely admit - she had come to John for help when she had no one else to turn to. She hadn't known John very well, either, only meeting for a few brief hours before. Sherlock knew she didn't have many friends, all her free time was spent with him and John. There was something odd about Ariel's life, and Sherlock wanted to crack that code.

Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the door rattle open. The light from the doorway pooled into the room, casting the shadows of the man that stood menacingly in it. The light in the room was turned on by an outside switch, making Sherlock squint at the sudden brightness. Sebastian Moran strode into the room, his heavy boots thudding against the hard floor. Behind Moran, four muscular guards came into the room.

"Awww, look at the two lovebirds, boys." Moran said mockingly before spitting in Sherlocks direction. Sherlock looked up at Moran with a disgusted look. The guards let out a raucous chorus of laughter which was quickly silenced.

"Take him." Moran said curtly, turning and striding out of the room. The guards leapt forward and seized Sherlock, hauling him to his feet. As Sherlock was dragged out from under her, Ariel's head rapped against the hard tiles. Her eyes flashed open, staring up at the two guards that held Sherlock between them.

Without a second thought, Ariel sprang to her feet and leapt at them, trying desperately to make them let go of Sherlock. The two remaining guards grabbed her, dragging her backwards and away from him as the Sherlock was forced out of the room. Ariel struggled against the grasp of the guards, fighting and kicking to get free. Her pleas for him to stay were ended by the slamming of the door.

The guards released her, and she fell to her knees, crying. She had nothing left anymore, the last and most precious thing she had had just been ripped away from her, again. Her sobs were cut short when the door opened again, revealing Moran. He had an evil grin painted on his lips, the scar running down his left cheek looking darker and more menacing. His smile grew wider as he noticed Ariel's tearstained face.

"Don't worry princess, your boyfriend will be fine. I'm not going to kill him. Yet..." Moran said evilly, a short, rough laugh echoing out of his mouth. The guards walked out of the room and the door swung heavily shut. A moment later, the lights went out. Ariel was left sitting alone in her darkened cell, praying she would see Sherlock alive again.

**XXXXXXXX**

What felt like hours of waiting in the dark room were ended by the sudden and abrupt burst of light that came with the opening of the door. Two guards stood, dragging Sherlock in. Behind them strode Sebastian Moran, a disgusted look on his face.

Once inside the room, the guards dropped Sherlocks limp body to the floor. Ariel rushed over, kneeling beside the crumpled man. She glared up at Moran, who snarled at her before throwing a first aid kit at her.

"He needs a little help. Make him all better, princess." Moran said in his mocking tone before striding out of the room again. Once the door shut firmly behind him, the lights in the room flickered on and Ariel gasped. In the dark, she had not been able to see Sherlocks injuries, but now they were as plain as day.

The detective was bleeding from several cuts on his face, arms and legs. There were purpling bruises forming around his left eye. His lip was split and swollen. Blood stains were quite visible on the sides of his stomach, and his left leg had a large gash in it, evidently caused by a knife.

"Oh Sherlock..." Ariel gasped, eyes brimming with tears at the pain and torture he had been put through. It was all her fault too. If only she had never met that damned Moran, Sherlock would be whole, undamaged.  
"It's not... you're fault." Sherlock struggled to say, reading her thoughts. He knew she would herself for his pain, but she was wrong. This had been his fight from the beginning. And he would end it.

"It is though. If only..." Ariel started, but was stopped by Sherlock.  
"There's no point wishing 'if only'. It happened. Let's move on." Sherlock said firmly, before wincing in pain. Moran and his men had done quite a bit of damage.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind treating my wounds." Sherlock said, wincing again as a fresh wave of pain arose from his injured leg. Ariel nodded before opening the first aid kit. She stopped to look down at Sherlock, seeming to decide what to do.

In an instant, Ariel took off her jumper, balled it up and placed it under Sherlocks head. It wasn't the most comfortable pillow, but it would work. Ariel then set about cleaning and bandaging Sherlocks various wounds. When she was finished, she double checked the bandages. As she checked the ones on Sherlocks side, he caught her hand, forcing her to look at him.

"Thank you." He said quietly. He really meant it. Maybe if he hadn't met her, he wouldn't be in this position, but he would wish it no other way. He may be in pain, but when he saw her face, he smiled. She made it all worth while. Ariel gave him a small smile before bending over him and giving him a gentle kiss on his swollen lips. She sighed heavily as sat up again.

"I just wish we weren't here." She said sadly, lightly stroking Sherlocks arm.  
"We'll be out of here soon enough." Sherlock said in his usual confident tone. Ariel hummed beside him.  
"Get some rest. You need it." She said, sitting up and leaning against the not to distant wall. She would watch over him the rest of the night, whether he liked it or not.

"Alright." Sherlock consented after a long moment. He settled down and got as comfortable as he could before trying to sleep.  
After twenty minutes of trying, the lights of their cell finally went out. But even after that, Sherlock could not get to sleep. He kept repeating the torturing over and over in his mind, unbidden yet still present.

He had memorize every step, every hall, every tile between their cell and the room he had been beaten in. He had needed that information to help them escape. As he tried to let sleep overtake him, he thought back to when he had been dragged out of the room, how Ariel had cried and begged and fought to have him released. She knew no good would come of it, but what she had feared most was him dying. Sherlock saw that. She didn't even care if she was hurt in the process, but she would do anything to keep him alive.

"Ariel?" He called out into the darkness. He heard a shuffling and then a whispered voice next to him.  
"Yes, Sherlock?" She replied. A silence fell between them for a moment.  
"Do you still have your phone?" Sherlock asked.  
"Yeah, why?" Ariel replied, puzzled by the odd request. But then again, it was Sherlock asking.  
"Give it to me." He said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Ariel dug around in her pockets until she found her mobile. She handed it to Sherlock and he immediately began searching through her phone. A few moments later, the sound of a recorded violin filled the room, coming out of the mobile's small speakers. It was the song Sherlock had played for Ariel, her song. Sherlock laid the phone down on his chest, eyes closed, listening to the music. Ariel sat beside him, shocked. Why would he want to listen to that? As the song ended, Sherlock shut off the phone and handed it back to Ariel.

"Why?" She asked quietly. She was out of tears, but her voice still cracked as if they were threatening her eyes again.  
"Because that song reminds me of you." Sherlock said plainly. All of a sudden his mind kicked into gear, thoughts racing a million miles an hour. He now had the final piece to the puzzle, and it had fallen right into place.

"Yes!" He shouted, sitting straight up. He suddenly felt the pain again and Ariel helped him lie back down.  
"Oh, yes. Of course! I was so stupid, but now... Yes!" Sherlock babbled. Ariel just let him ramble on, completely confused by him. When he finally calmed down, Ariel asked,  
"What are you so excited about?"

"The bombings, remember. When is the next one supposed to happen?" Sherlock asked, a grin on his face.  
"Dinner time tomorrow. Why?" She asked, still puzzled.  
"Where will they bomb next?" Sherlock prompted, ignoring her question.

"I don't know." Ariel answered honestly. She really had no idea.  
"Where did you wake up after you passed out?" Sherlock asked, tying a different route.  
"A hospital." Ariel answered, simply.

"Not just any hospital. St. Thomas' Hospital. Which, as you know..." Sherlock trailed off as Ariel began to understand.  
"Is being visited by the Queen tomorrow." Ariel's hand collided with her forehead. How could she have been so stupid? Of course that's where they would bomb next!

"And, where does it look like we are now?" Sherlock asked. Ariel let out a sigh.  
"The basement of a hospital. A morgue, almost." She replied. Sherlock nodded slightly.

"Very easy for Sebastian to move us down here after knocking us out, if it is a morgue. Pronounce us dead, get his thugs to moves us, nobody questions him. Big enough hospital not everybody knows each other, he can slip in and slip out easily." Sherlock stated. "Now all we need is a way to slip out of here as well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment! Please comment!


	34. Escape Artists

**Chapter XXXIV**

"Hold on a second. I don't get how you know Sebastian is involved in the bombing." Ariel said. Even though it was dark, she could imagine Sherlock rolling his eyes at her, because there was something so  _obvious_  she had missed.

"Because, did you see him? Military man, obvious by his stance, clothing and hair cut. Trained marksman, you said it yourself. Likes to be in command. Also, I saw our little friend, the explosives expert, on my way out." Sherlock said. He just barely saw the pained look glance across Ariel's face in the dark.

"Alright, that's pretty conclusive evidence." She acknowledged. Playing this game with Sherlock was always hard.  
"So now, all we need to do is escape." Sherlock said, steepling his fingers. His eyes drifted shut as he fell into the halls of his mind palace.

Ariel sat by herself in silence, the only sound to be heard was the rasp of Sherlocks breathing. Ariel glanced down at Sherlock from where she sat beside him. She simply watched him, watched his brain work.

She tried to imagine what it was like in there, all those thoughts whirling around. She tried to picture what his mind palace must look like, halls and rooms overflowing with neatly categorized information, easily accessible, arranged just so. It amazed her. Ariel's mind wandered, consumed in thoughts about the detectives mind.

Thoughts of Sherlock often possessed her, but rarely did she let herself be so completely enthralled by them. It was only when Sherlock grabbed her hand and physically shook her did she snap out of her deep thoughts.

"Ariel, you okay?" Sherlock asked as he watched Ariel blinked away the glazed look in her eyes.  
"Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought." Ariel murmured. She smiled down at Sherlock. Sherlock seemed satisfied and let go of her, returning to his hallmark thinking position.

Ariel returned to thinking, except this time she turned her metal ability to something useful. Possible was of escaping crossed her mind, the plan Sherlock had made up earlier shot down because of his injuries.

"Sherlock..." Ariel said lowly, her voice fringed with excitement.  
"What?" He asked, head cocked slightly on the floor with curious eyes.  
"I think I have a way out of here." She said quietly, pitching her voice so only he could hear her. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her, encouraging her to continue. Ariel laid out her plan in a hurried and hushed tone.

She finished by saying,  
"The only problem is, I need to be able to rely on you to be able to move when I can't help you." Sherlock huffed out in annoyance.  
"Of course I will be able to. I don't need your help anyway." He snippily retorted. He heard a heavy sigh from beside him.

"Look, Sherlock, I know you are perfectly capable of doing these things under normal circumstances, but right now, you are seriously wounded. I just don't want to put either of us at more risk then we already are." Ariel stated.

"Well, thank you for your concern, but I am perfectly capable of doing ten times more then what you believe me to be able while being "seriously wounded"." Sherlock snapped back.

"Oh really? Because I think you are going to have a hard time walking with that leg of yours." Ariel shot back. She could tell Sherlock was simply trying to hold onto his pride. He absolutely refused to ask for help. That made her mad.

"I'm sorry you think I am incapable of performing even the most minor of human abilities, which in this case, is to walk on my own. But I must inform you that you are wrong in that assumption." Sherlock replied in a deadly calm tone.

"Damn it, Sherlock! When will you get it through that thick skull of yours that I actually care about you?! That I worry about your safety? That I give you the benefit of the doubt? When will that big brain of yours finally realize that?" Ariel practically yelled at him, her voice fading off into a crumbling whisper at the end. Her head hung low, resting on her hands.

Sherlock realized he had done something wrong, but he wasn't entirely sure what. After a few moments silence, Sherlock decided he needed to say something.  
"Ariel... I honestly do think I can do what your asking of me. For the escape plan." Sherlock tried, even going so far as to place his hand awkwardly on her knee. She looked up and gave him one of her beautiful smiles. With a small sigh, Ariel spoke up.

"Ok. Ok, good. Now, I need the information you collected." She said, jumping back into planning mode. They were going to break out of here.

**XXXXXXXX**

If they would have had a window in their cell, Ariel was almost certain she would have seen the first greying clouds that told a person that sunrise was near. The time spent between her and Sherlocks last conversation had been spent in near silence; him being forced to rest and her working on the last stray bits of this plan.

Fortunately for them, the lock could be picked, but that would be the easy part. Although the tie for hardest part was going to be between knocking the first guards unconscious and getting past Moran and the rest of the guards.  
Sherlock opened his eyes after a restless slumber to find Ariel sitting huddled beside him. When she saw him move around, she smiled.

"Morning." She said cheerily, the adrenaline already starting to course through her veins.  
"Mmm, morning." Sherlock replied before forcing himself to sit up. Ariel helped him to stand and supported him as they made their way to the door. She then helped Sherlock sit down against the wall beside the door she crouched and began preparing to pick the lock.

"What are you doing? I thought I was going to do it?" Sherlock asked, confused.  
"Oh really? With what?" Ariel quipped, eyebrows raised, challenging Sherlock to answer. For the first time, he was rendered speechless.  
"Right that's what I thought." Ariel said, reaching both of her hands up to meet at the same spot in her hair.

"Now," she began, fiddling with something. "I have, not only the skills, but the tool as well." With that, she held out her hand for Sherlock to see what she had been grabbing at - a hair pin.

"Seriously? You're going to use a bobbie pin to..." Sherlock started, but quickly found Ariel's hands covering his mouth to silence him. After a few moments of absolutely nothing but the sound if their breathing filling the room, Ariel removed her hands. She sent Sherlock a warning glance.

"Yes, I am. And I've done it a hundred times before. Now, shut your gob." Ariel admonished, pulling out her mobile and switching it on. She used the light from the screen as a torch, illuminating the lock in front if her. With a deep breath to steady herself, she took the hair pin and started picking the lock.

Sherlock watched her meticulously work, every movement calculated. There were many things he suspected to find under her mask, but lock picking was not something he had imagined. Although, he could see that she was exceptionally good at it, this led Sherlock to have several unanswered questions. And even though he really wanted the answers, he had to stay focused because he was the first part of the attack team.

The moment he heard the  ** _tick_**  of the door unlock, he had to be ready to fight. Ariel did a few more twists and turns before Sherlock heard the noise he'd been waiting for. Both him and Ariel froze, waiting to see if the guards had noticed.

After a few moments of blessed silence, Ariel tucked her phone and hair pin into her pocket, stood up and helped Sherlock to stand. When she was sure Sherlock was ready, she cracked the door open.

At first the guards didn't noticed, then they were confused and then they snapped back into their duty. This process took less then ten seconds, but it was ten seconds Sherlock and Ariel used to their advantage. Sherlock, supporting himself against the doorframe, hit the first guard with a round if pepper spray before knocking him unconscious with a swift blow to the underside of the chin.

Ariel by this point had managed to get the door wide open and she took on the next guard. Disarming him was a piece of cake, and with a few well aimed blows, he lay unconscious on the floor. Ariel had to wonder to herself why Moran would even put such incompetent fools in the guard. But now was not the time. Ariel quickly helped Sherlock walk down the hallway, taking directions from Sherlock as they went. Of course, Ariel knew it wouldn't be clear sailing, and she was right.

Down the first hall they turned into was another pair if guards which they were unable to hide from. The two burly men came barrelling down the hallway and Ariel practically threw Sherlock out of the way. From his spot on the ground, he watched as Ariel fought off the thugs with calm skill. Within a minute both men lay unconscious on the floor. As Ariel hauled Sherlock to his feet and practically dragged the taller man down the hall, Sherlock remained oddly silent.

The next hall was a bit more difficult - it contained a room full of the well muscled men all rowdily watching a football game. Ariel motioned for Sherlock to be silent and then carefully began sneaking past the room, Sherlock in tow. Ariel timed her sneaking perfectly - every time the men would cheer, she knew they would be less likely to hear them, and because of Sherlocks leg, they would need that. As soon as one of the men's raucous outbursts began, Ariel half-crept, half-dragged Sherlock past the room.

Just when Ariel thought they were safe though, a patrol came down the hall. He had yet to notice them, so Ariel pushed Sherlock into the supply closet. After a harsh shushing of Sherlocks complaints, Ariel relaxed as she heard the patrol join in on the game watching. England was beating Whales, apparently.

After a few more moments of silently hiding in the supply closet, Ariel cracked the door and dragged Sherlock out behind her. A few more unhindered twists and turns and the two escapees found themselves just around the corner from the elevator Sherlock was certain to be their exit. Unfortunately for them, their exit was guarded. The single burly thug that stood with his hand on the gun in his holster was definitely not going to let them just waltz by. Ariel pulled Sherlock back against the wall.

"Stay here." She whispered hastily before striding down the hallway towards the guard. At first he didn't notice her, but when he did his gun was out in a split second and aimed at Ariel. For her part, Ariel defensively raised her hands and stood stalk still.

"It's alright. I didn't escape. I was allowed out for a walk around." Ariel said, inching closer to the guard.  
"Yeah right. Who let you out?" The guard asked gruffly.  
"Orders from Moran himself." She said firmly and the guard lowered his weapon.

Dropping her hands, Ariel walked right up to the guard. Before he could blink, Ariel had sprayed him with Sherlocks can of pepper spray. As his hands instinctively went to his eyes, Ariel gave a few well placed blows before knocking him unconscious with the edge of his own gun.

Once the guard was down, Ariel quickly retrieved Sherlock and pulled him into the waiting elevator. Inside, they were finally safe and able to talk.

"Where'd you get the pepper spray?" Sherlock asked. Ariel dug it out of her pocket and tossed it to him.  
"I pick-pocketed it off of you when we were in the closet." She said with a breathless laugh. The two of them shared an adrenaline fuelled chuckle as they rode the lift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate it? Love it? Somewhere in between? Please comment!


	35. A Can of Surprise

**Chapter XXXV**

When the elevator hit the ground floor, Ariel prepared for another round of guards. To her surprise, as the lift doors slide open, not a single guard was to be found. Ariel checked the hallways quickly before grabbing Sherlock and helping him scuttle out of the elevator. But before either of them could make another move, a sound to their right made them freeze.

A single string of slow clapping came from the left hallway. A moment later, Sebastian Moran came into view, gun slung low around his waist.  
"Well, well, well. Look who finally managed to escape. The princess and her toad." Sebastian teased, leaning casually against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. Ariel glared at him, still firmly clutching on to Sherlock.

When Sherlock grunted and shifted his weight a bit, Ariel moved to help him, her eyes momentarily moving from Sebastian to Sherlock. She noticed that Sherlock had his eyes locked on Sebastian and that there was a flicker of anger, hatred and disgust for the other man. This made Ariel just the tiniest bit happy, because she felt the same. After a long moment of staring each other down in silence, Sebastian made the first move.

"I always thought you were better then this, Ariel. Hooking up with a psychopath. I mean, it's not as if you haven't done it before, but I'd just thought you'd learned from your mistakes." Sebastian said with a cheshire grin. He took a few steps towards the two prisoners and leaned in next to Ariel. Sherlock could feel Ariel stiffen at the motion.

"Guess we were both wrong, weren't we?... Love." Sebastian said quietly, deliberately dragging out the word "love". Ariel steeled herself for a brief second before replying.

Sherlock saw her mask go up as she said coolly,  
"No, just you were wrong, as always. Now, if you have a problem with me, you can just talk to me. Or, if you have a problem with him, you could simply talk like civilized gentlemen. No need for the prison." Ariel's reply would have seemed friendly enough, she even cracked a fake smile.

But Sherlock could hear the ice cold undertones, the stabbing stiffness and the vile hatred that permeated each and every word. And if Sebastian's scowl was anything to go by, he had heard it too.

"I hate to say, princess, that the hold was necessary. Remember the last time we tried to have a "civilized" chat?" Sebastian taunted coolly.

"Unfortunately, it seems to have slipped my mind. But threatening to kill my new boyfriend? That's a new low, even for you, Sebastian." Ariel retorted, her faked friendliness still tying her words together in a neat little bow.

"Hardly a new low, according to you anyways." Sebastian growled. Ariel flashed him a pleased grin.

"You're right. But while you and I are catching up on old times, my friend here is bleeding to death and in severe pain. So, ta Sebastian. Hope I never see you again." Ariel stated and then began to saunter off. But she hadn't gotten more then four steps down the hall when Sebastian charger her and knocked her over.

Sherlock and her toppled over, Sebastian pinning Ariel's legs down. As Ariel rolled of and began to fight off Sebastian, Sherlock wriggled - for that was the only thing he could think to call it - away from the two of them. Once free, Sherlock found the can of pepper spray and used it on Sebastian. It got him in his right eye, but it only stunned him for a few seconds before he went back to grappling with Ariel.

"The gun Sherlock! Get the gun!" Ariel called out, trying desperately to keep the muscled man on top of her from reaching his weapon. Sherlock snapped to it, and flung himself over Sebastian, draping his lean body over the other mans. At that moment, Sebastian managed to grip both of Ariel's hands with one of his, leaving the other to reach for the weapon. Sherlock battled with the hand as he tried to get the gun out of the holster. In a flash, Sherlock was standing (as well as he could) with the gun pointed at Sebastian.

"Get up." Sherlock ordered through gritted teeth. Sebastian reluctantly obeyed. As soon as he was standing with his hands above his head and away from her, Ariel hopped off the ground and dusted herself off. She gave him a smug look.

"We'll be going now." She said, putting Sherlocks left arm around her neck to support him. She didn't need him collapsing now.  
"Yes. But to make sure you don't come after us..." Sherlock trailed off, his words punctuated by the sound of the gun firing twice. As Ariel's eyes opened after instinctively being screwed shut, she noticed a bleeding bullet wound on each of Sebastian's legs. He howled in pain, gripping tightly at the crippling wounds.

"Ariel, do you have reception here?" Sherlock asked, gun still pointed at Sebastian. Ariel dug through her coat pocket till she found her mobile. Switching it on, she answered,  
"Yes, I've got reception."

"Good. Call Lestrade and tell him to he down here immediately." Sherlock said, removing his arm from around Ariel's neck and gripping the gun with both hands. Ariel dialled the number and on the third ring Lestrade answered.

"Greg? Yeah, it's Ariel. Listen, Sherlock and I were kidnaped... No, we're fine now... We've got our kidnapper retrained, and we'd like you to come pick him up... St. Thomas Hospital, main floor by the elevator... Thanks, bye." Ariel hung up and turned to Sherlock. "He's on his way."

"Good." Sherlock answered absentmindedly, his gaze intently on Sebastian Moran. Ariel notice the glares going on between the two and she quickly studied them, surveying both of them. In the end, she gave up trying to determine what they were trying to communicate silently. Ariel heard a scuffle coming up behind them and turned to find a small female nurse staring at the three of them.

"What is going on?" She yelled out in distress. Ariel shared a brief "let me do the talking" look with Sherlock before turning back to the nurse.  
"It's a long story and I'm sure the police will tell you, but right now I need you to make sure this man doesn't bleed to death, ok?" Ariel asked calmly. The nurse seemed a bit shaken but went over to Sebastian and looked at his wounds.

After a moment she went to one of the doors along the wall and pulled out a first aid kit from the closet and proceeded to treat his wounds. Sebastian hissed as she applied pressure to them, but otherwise made no attempt to reject her help. As soon as the nurse was helping Sebastian, Sherlock lowered the gun and steadied himself on Ariel.

They both intently watched the nurse work on Sebastian, who would glare up at them occasionally. Ariel wrapped her arms around Sherlock and one of her hands landed on the bulge in his shirt pocket. Ariel reached in and pulled out the small aerosol can. She toyed with it.

"Sebastian, are you really that stupid to have let Sherlock keep his pepper spray? I mean, my hair pins I understand, but really? You missed a can of..." Ariel stopped toying with the can and read it. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion as she read out, "Super Sexy Hairspray?"

Ariel turned to look questioningly at Sherlock. Sherlock looked back with an expression that was a cross between indifference and one close to embarrassment. After a long staring contest, Sherlock finally began to explain himself.

"Yes. I have a mini can of hairspray. But, may I point out that it saved our lives by doubling as pepper spray and that my hair still looks fantastic." Sherlock rambled defensively. Ariel let out a little chuckle of affection for the detective. Even Sherlock had his secrets. Although she wasn't sure if he knew that she was well aware of his love for his curls.

Ten minutes later, Lestrade arrived with a team of what felt like a hundred officers. They were swarming around, this team being sent here, that one being sent there and yet none of them seemed to be disappearing. After a rather lengthy explanation from Sherlock, Lestrade saw to it that Sebastian was put in cuffs and on his way to jail.

"Alright, well that about finishes my job here." Lestrade said, turning back to Sherlock and Ariel who stood patiently waiting to be released.  
"So we can go home now?" Ariel asked, her arm firmly wrapped around Sherlocks waist. She had refused to let him go even though he had been given a set of crutches to keep him off his bad leg.

"Yeah, alright. But you'll need to come in for questioning tomorrow. And Sherlock really should go to a hospital." Lestrade relented with a sigh. Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically.  
"Seriously, Lestrade? I'm perfectly fine. I don't need to go to a hospital." Sherlock sneered. Just as Lestrade opened his mouth to make a remark, Ariel stopped him.

"We'll be in for questioning tomorrow afternoon. Until then, I can take care of him." She said, putting on her most convincing smile. The detective inspector let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"As for questioning, that's good. But Sherlock really should go to a hospital. His leg needs stitches and he really should be checked over." Lestrade tried. When he noticed that neither one of them was having it, he tried again.  
"Please? For me?" Lestrade pleaded. Normally, this tactic wouldn't work on Sherlock alone, but with Ariel at his side, he had a better chance. After a moment of silence and a pleading look from Ariel, Sherlock finally conceded.

"Alright, fine. I'll go to a doctor. But after he's looked me over, we are going home, understood?" He said sternly. Ariel nodded, a happy smile on her face. Lestrade just shook his head as the two of them walked away.

He wondered how long it had been since Sherlock manned up and accepted his feelings. Greg Lestrade knew a lot about Sherlock Holmes, more, perhaps then anyone else, but one thing that always confused him was the consulting detectives ability to mask his emotions.

But Lestrade knew that deep down, Sherlock was a good man. Everyone knew, even if they wouldn't admit it, that he was a great man, but Sherlock Holmes, under the cold facade and enormous intellect, was a good man who just needed someone.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel waited patiently in the waiting room of St. Bart's for Sherlock to return. But instead of seeing him stroll into the room, she heard him scream, start shouting and then what she assumed was him knocking over a tray of instruments.

Ariel leapt to her feet and quickly made her way to the door of the examination room Sherlock was in. She yanked open the door and made her way to the flailing, shouting man who was Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock! Stop this right now!" She said, irritation in her voice though she wasn't mad at him. Mostly, she was mentally and physically exhausted from being kidnapped, and all she wanted to do was go home to bed. Sherlock calmed down, though he still looked absolutely annoyed.

"This so-called doctor has barely been out of medical school for a year, has never treated a wound like this before and obviously doesn't want to be a doctor. Plus, he's slept with every nurse in the west wing of this place." Sherlock whined, his deductions downplayed only by his extremely childlike tone. Ariel had to stop herself from giggling.

"Listen. If you don't want him to help you, that's fine. But if you would like to get home tonight, I suggest you behave and let him stitch you up so we can go home." Ariel said forcefully, though she was sure she sounded stronger then she felt. Sherlock seemed annoyed, but let the doctor finish his work.

Thirty minutes and twenty seven stitches later, Sherlock was finally discharged from the hospital. As they walked out they doors, a black car pulled up, and a man got out and beckoned them to get in.  
"Mycroft." Sherlock moaned under his breath. With a little giggle from Ariel, they got in.


	36. Stay

**Chapter XXXVI**

It was half seven in the morning when they finally stumbled back into the flat. Everything was exactly as they had left it. Tea mugs drying on the rack, the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table, a blanket crumpled on the floor beside the sofa.

Ariel was exhausted, all she wanted to do was sleep in the comfy bed upstairs. It was over. It was finally over. Ariel felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders. She felt lighter and the world seemed just a little bit brighter.

Ariel helped Sherlock into his room despite his protests that he could do it himself. She made sure he was in bed and was going to stay there before leaving to go to her own bed. Ariel slowly put her pyjamas and climbed under the heavy duvet on the bed. She snuggled down, happy to finally be in bed, and fell asleep within minutes.

Sherlock, however, was having a more difficult time getting to sleep. He lie awake, analyzing the reasons for this. First was the general lack of sleep he normal had. He could go days without sleeping, given the proper stimulation.

Second was the pain he had. Though he often felt that his body was merely transport, a way for his mind to gather information, when it was in this much pain it was rather hard to ignore.

Third was this nagging feeling that something was missing, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He looked over the room, but everything was where it should be, more or less.

His chest of drawers had more then one drawer hanging open, and there was clothing littering the floor, but that was all normal. Sherlock reached his hand out to stroke Ariel's hair absentmindedly, but found she wasn't there.

 _That's it!_ Sherlock realized.  _That's what's missing! It's Ariel_! The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Could he really be so attached to one person? Surely, there had to be a more reasonable explanation then that, one that involved less... feeling. Sherlock pondered this problem as he drifted into a light sleep.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel woke up first. She rolled over and checked her clock.  _10:34 am_. She had only bee asleep for three hours. Oh well. Time to get up so she didn't mess up her sleeping routine to much more then it already was. Rubbing her eyes, she threw on her dressing gown and made her way downstairs.

Stumbling into the kitchen, Ariel noticed how unusually quiet it was. She hadn't honestly expected Sherlock to sleep, but she had ordered him to stay in bed so she could sleep peaceful. Although, she didn't believe he would, it seemed he had actually listen to her for once. Ariel smiled to herself and got a glass of water. She went upstairs and showered, preparing for a rather relaxed day of trying to keep Sherlock from moving and tearing his stitches.

When Ariel entered the kitchen again, she noticed that his bedroom door was still soundly shut. Ariel grabbed a first aid kit so that she could treat his wounds, and quietly knocked on the door. When there was no reply, she cracked it open to peer into the darkened room. She could see the outline of his body underneath the sheets on the bed.

Smiling, Ariel quickly slipped into the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She made her way to the bed to check up on Sherlock. He was sound asleep, sprawled out on his bed. Ariel reached out and moved a wayward curl out of his eyes.

She smiled fondly at the sleeping man as she sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. She bent down and gently kissed his cheek. Sherlock felt her lips and lazily opened his eyes.

"Morning." She whispered, sitting up with a smile.

"Technically, it was morning when we went to sleep." Sherlock mumbled, shifting into a more comfortable position. Ariel giggled softly.

"Let me check your stitches." She said, pulling at the edge of the covers and exposing Sherlocks injured leg. He hissed at the loss of heat. Ariel reached down and began removing his bandages.

She gently wound the wrapping around her hand before putting it in a small plastic bag. It would need to be disposed of. Carefully, she checked over his leg, making sure there were no signs of infection.

When she was satisfied that the wound was clean and on it's way to healing, she reached in the first aid kit she had brought and re-bandaged it. She sat back to admire her handy work and gave a brief smile to Sherlock.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault your laid up like this." Ariel said, shifting her gaze to her hands.

"You're right, it is your fault, however, I am choosing not to blame you because it is also partially my fault." Sherlock said, his normal cool tones sounded comforting to Ariel. She loved that sometimes, even when he would say the facts, he would try to make a comment to make her feel better. It was nice.

"Thanks." She said, a smile on her face. There was a brief moment of silence.

"Well, I should get to straighten up the place. Johns coming home tonight and it should look at least respectable." Ariel said, getting up from her spot on the bed. "If you need anything, please ask."

And with that, Ariel left the room, gently closing the door behind her. Sherlock lay back in bed. His leg throbbed dully and his various cuts and bruises ached, but he pushed the meagre pains to the back of his mind as he began to analysis their conversation. He knew John was coming home tonight, but what would the doctor say?

Sherlock chuckled inwardly at the inevitable anger and protectiveness his friend would display at seeing him in such a state. Sherlock could hear Ariel out in the flat tidying up. He really should go help her. After all, it was mostly his mess and she would probably ruin any experiments he had on the go. But he had some important thinking to do.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel puttered around the flat, washing dishes, doing laundry, straighten things up. Nothing out of the ordinary, just general housework. That was, until she came to one of Sherlocks experiments that was sitting on the kitchen table. She stared at it a moment, trying to decide what to do with it. In the end, she decided to just leave it where it was, undisturbed.

Unfortunately, she could not do the same with the index fingers in the fridge. She took them out and threw them in the bin, hoping Sherlock would forgive her. Ariel finished with the kitchen and decide Johns sheets would need washing before he got back, so she quickly went upstairs to the room she had been staying in for the past two weeks to strip the bed.

As she entered the room, memories from the last few weeks filled her mind. The memories of waking up to the sound of Sherlock banging pots and pans, of getting anonymous phone calls that demanded information, of breaking down and crying, of talking to John on the phone, of realizing she loved Sherlock.

Of all the memories this room held, that was the most important and special one. It had changed her world for the better. Smiling to herself, Ariel finished her job. As she walked down the stairs, her arms wrapped around the bundle of sheets, she heard Sherlocks bedroom door open. She dropped the washing by the door, bound for Mrs. Hudson's old washer, and went to check on Sherlock.

He was on his crutches trying to manoeuvre out of his room, but was finding that to be a bit of a challenge. Ariel rushed over to his side and helped him to the living room, never saying a word.

"Anything I can get for you?" Ariel asked once he was comfortably seated in his armchair, leg propped up on a stool.

"Tea, please. Some biscuits if we have any." Sherlock said, taking up his signature thinking position. Ariel just nodded and dashed into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

She dug around in the cupboards and after finding a jar of spiders, three dismembered rats and a moulding cheese (all Sherlocks experiments), she finally found a tin of edible biscuits. She put them on a plate and made tea. Ariel carried them into the living room and placed them on the small table next to Sherlock.

He didn't even look up or acknowledge that she had done this. Instead he just sat there, thinking. Ariel for her part wasn't bothered in the slightest as she was wrapped up in her own thoughts.

Mostly they involved what still needed cleaning, what went where and that sort of thing. But whenever she had a moment to spare, she would think back to their time spent kidnapped. Her mind would wander over the events that had happened, what was said and, perhaps most importantly, what wasn't said.

Ariel hated to be the one to read into what people chose not to say, that was their own business. But back there, with Sebastian and Sherlock, she wasn't quite sure she had every piece to the puzzle. She felt there was something she had missed. She turned it over and over again in her mind, trying to figure it out. The only thing she could come up with was that she was over analyzing it and that there wasn't anything she was missing.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and read her newest text.

"Laid over in Kuala Lumpur. How's it going? - JW"

"Good. We're going to have to go for drinks so I can catch you up on everything. -AH"

"That much happen huh? Alright, we'll go for drinks. How's Sherlock? -JW"

Ariel stopped to wonder just how much John knew and how much he needed to know before he got home at six o'clock that evening.

"His doing well, I think. Like I said, a lot you need to catch up on. -AH"

"Haha. Alright then. See you soon. -JW"

Ariel tucked her phone back in her pocket and carried the laundry downstairs to be washed. When she came back upstairs, she poked her head into the living room. Sherlock was still sitting, leg resting on the stool, hands clasped in front of his face.

His eyes were in the thousand yard stare, open but not really looking at anything and glazed over. Ariel smiled. At least he wasn't trying to move around. Suddenly, Ariel remembered what it was she had been forgetting - the next bombing!

"Sherlock..." She started, trying to get him out of his trance. His eyes shifted and focused on her.

"If you are attempting to remind me of the bombing that was scheduled to happen this evening, you sorely underestimate my memory. I've already informed Lestrade and he has seen to the problem. Should any of Moran's gang still try to kidnap the Queen, he and his men will be waiting for them. Although I highly doubt they will, as Scotland Yard has already recovered the Royal Jewels and the Corgis." Sherlock informed her. Ariel just nodded.

"Good. I just didn't need you running around London with stitches in your leg." She replied before disappearing upstairs. Sherlock heard her start hoovering Johns bedroom and he relaxed into his chair. He hated being confined. With a grunt of frustration at his body, Sherlock reached over and grabbed his violin from beside his chair.

After rosining the bow and checking to make sure it was tune, Sherlock began to softly play violin. It kept his mind off the fact that he was rather incapacitated. Ariel heard the faint strains of Sherlocks violin. She stopped hoovering and heard Sherlock playing "Clair de Lune".

She smiled at the familiar tune. It brought back the memory of when he played for her. Ariel finished hoovering the bedroom and made the bed with the freshly cleaned sheets. Ariel collected her things, leaving the room as clean as possible for its owners return.

She picked up her bags and had one last look around the room. With a content sigh, she turned out the light and shut the door behind her. Ariel put her bags down by the door and went to the kitchen to make something to eat.

"Leaving already?" Sherlock led from the living room, where he was cleaning his violin. Ariel came to the kitchen doorway and smiled at him.

"Not if you don't want me too." She said slyly. Sherlock chuckled.

"Please. Stay." He asked, a sincere glint in his eyes. Ariel grabbed her food and sat down across from Sherlock, silently saying she would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought!


	37. Playing Games

**Chapter XXXVII**

Ariel spent the afternoon trying to entertain Sherlock, which was harder then she anticipated. He had to stay off his leg, otherwise he would risk tearing the stitches. But Sherlock was normally a whirlwind of activity and not being able to move frustrated him.

"Sherlock, why don't we play a game?" Ariel asked, after trying, and failing, to get him interested in a program on the telly. He had loudly remarked at how stupid it was.

"Ugh, do we have to? Couldn't I just shoot myself instead?" Sherlock complained, groaning loudly. Ariel sat herself down in front of him and looked him straight in the eye.

"Listen, it could be fun. Plus, I'm bored too. Trust me. Try a game, and if you don't like it, we'll try another one." Ariel reasoned with him. Honestly, sometimes Sherlock was like the worlds largest five year old.

"Fine." Sherlock finally consented.

"Alright. What game do you want to play?" She asked, completely ready to do anything to keep his boredom at bay.

"John has Cluedo hidden on the top shelf of the storage closet." Sherlock grumbled.

"Good. I'll go get it." Ariel said, hopping up from the floor to get the board game. She returned a few moments later, game in hand, and began setting it up on the little table.

"Right. You go first." Ariel said once it was all set up. Sherlock rolled his eyes and groaned, but reached for the die anyway. Three turns in, Sherlock threw a fit.

"This is ridiculous! It was obvious the victim committed the crime himself, with the dagger in the observatory! It's the only possible solution!" Sherlock all but screamed in frustration.

Ariel stared at him in shock for a moment, surprised by his sudden outburst. Sherlock thought for a moment she was going to get angry with him, telling him like John had that it was not possible, it wasn't in the rules and you are a complete jerk. But Sherlock was utterly astounded when Ariel broke out into a hysterical laugh. She giggled until she was panting and her sides ached.

"That is the craziest, most ridiculous guess I have ever heard for this game... But I love it!" She chuckled out, eyes still screwed shut with laughter. A huge smile broke out on Sherlocks face. He began to laugh along with her.

After a few minutes of raucous laughter from the two of them, they finally calmed down enough for Ariel to ask,

"Another game?" Sherlock just nodded, his eyes sparkling. Ariel smiled up at him before putting away Cluedo and getting a different game.

"Ok, I know you like intelligent games, so lets try cards. Have you ever played 'Rummy'?" Ariel asked. Sherlock cocked his head at her, mentally running through his mind palace for information regarding the card game in question. He popped back to reality when he heard Ariel snap her fingers a few times. He just looked at her blankly.

"You know, you could just say 'I don't know'. I won't judge." Ariel said sweetly, trying to keep from this becoming confrontational. She knew how much Sherlock hated asking for help.

"Fine. I don't know. Happy now?" Sherlock asked sarcastically. Ariel giggled.

"Yes, actually." She said with a winning grin. Sherlock glared at her for a moment. There was utter silence. Ariel sighed and began to teach him how to play.

"Alright. Let me explain. To play 'Rummy', first you need to..."

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel got up, stretching her cramped legs. Sitting on the floor for two hours hadn't been the best of her ideas. Sherlock had actually enjoyed playing cards and the game had killed two hours. Only four more until John would be home.

Ariel wandered into the kitchen and made herself some toast and some tea for her and Sherlock. The man who had currently beaten her at cards was loafing in his chair, going back to being bored. Ariel had to think of something else to do with him to keep him occupied.

Telly was out of the question and she couldn't think of anymore games. But of she didn't find something, Sherlock would make the next four hours as miserable as humanly possible. Ariel shuddered to think of that.

Carrying the tea into the living room, Ariel noticed Sherlock was plucking at his violin strings. She set his tea down and settled into Johns armchair, wrapping both hands around her warm cup. Sherlock continued to pluck at the strings, not really playing anything.

After a moment, he picked up his bow and began to play. It was a calming tune at first, which turned it a melodramatic sad song. Ariel raised an eyebrow questioningly at Sherlock, but he was to engrossed in his music to notice. The piece changed again, turning into a soft, almost lullaby-like sound. Ariel closed her eyes and listened, head bobbing gently with the music. Sherlock ended his piece, a bit more relaxed now.

"Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." Ariel breathed out, not louder then a whisper in the quiet room. Sherlock tucked his violin neatly into its case. He began drumming his fingers on the armrests of the chair, already feeling boredom set in again. Ariel just sat and sipped her tea contently, a mask of pure peace on her face.

Inside, she was racing through her library of ideas for something to do with Sherlock that wouldn't bore her to tears. Sherlock continued to drum away, growing more and more restless as time went on. Eventually, Ariel set down her finished tea cup and looked at Sherlock.

"Do you have any ideas?" She asked, trying to get him to provide his thoughts. Sherlock let out an impatient sigh and rolled his eyes as he flopped back into his chair.

"You're the one who wants me to sit in this bloody chair all day! Why don't you supply the ideas?" He spat out rudely. Ariel gaped at him a moment before becoming thoughtful.

She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, causing a small wrinkle to appear on her forehead. Sherlock spared her a glance and raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She had subconsciously clasped her hands together in front of her face, a position that closely resembled Sherlocks traditional thinking one.

She seemed deep in thought for a moment before a bright twinkling entered her eyes. She gave him a broad smile before dashing away in the direction of his bedroom. A few short minutes later, she re-entered the room cradling a stack of books. She placed them in a neat stack on the floor.

"There." She said, tucking a strand of her wayward hair behind her ear. "That should help." Sherlock looked up at her, perplexed.

"And what do you propose I do with these?" He said in his cold, calculating voice as he gestured towards the pile of books.

"Well Sherlock, normally people read books." Ariel said sarcastically. Sherlock groaned.

"You want me to read while I'm stuck here in this chair?" He asked in a harsh tone. Ariel just grinned.

"Read them, no. Use them, yes." She said, reaching over and picking up the first book on the pile. "We're going to play a game."

Sherlocks curiosity was piqued. Ariel opened the book, an old bound volume, and flipped gingerly through the pages. She finally selected a page.

"Here. From this picture, what can you deduce about this man?" She asked, showing Sherlock the book. His eyes darted across the page, studying every inch of the photograph, every detail of the man on it. In less then twenty seconds, he sat back to recount his findings to Ariel. She sat back in wonderment as she just listened to him rattle on about this man.

"Wow. Amazing." She said in awe before reaching over and selecting a book that was farther down the pile. "Lets try this one." Ariel flipped it open and Sherlock caught a brief look at the cover. It was one of the only fantasy books he owned, given to him by his grandmother when he was quite young.

The gold cursive lettering on the cover read " _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ ". Sherlock cringed a little before he wondered how Ariel had found it. When she had found a page, she turned it to Sherlock.

"Here. Tell me what the artist was trying to capture and how he felt about it." Ariel soda, handing him the book. Sherlock took it and studied the drawing. It was of Alice, holding a bottle with the tag 'Drink Me' written on it. Unbidden, memories flashed through Sherlocks mind.

Quickly, he pushed them back and made his quick deductions before shoving the back into Ariel's hands. She looked up at him and realized for the first time just how little she knew about him. Without a word though, she selected the next book, a scientific textbook on poisons, and continued on with their game.

After the Alice incident, Sherlock quite enjoyed the game. After they ran out of books, Ariel used her phone to find pictures and drawings of people, places and things for Sherlock to deduce. And each time he deduced them perfectly. They were having so much fun, in fact, that they didn't even hear the person knocking at the door.

That was, not until Mrs. Hudson opened the door to the flat and came in. She was quickly replaced by John. He dropped his bags and gave a look around the flat before he gave a happy sigh. It felt good to be home. Ariel had gotten to her feet and made her way over to John. She proceeded to give him a big hug which he gratefully returned.

Mrs. Hudson let out a small laugh at the two. Sherlock felt a flame of what he could only describe as jealousy in his stomach. He quickly dismissed it.

"Sherlock!" John said happily, turning to his flatmate when he was released from Ariel's arms. "Look at you! I'm gone two weeks and you get yourself laid up!" He chuckled out.

"My leg is hardly the most interesting thing to happen while you were away." Sherlock replied coolly, though underneath his cold exterior he was happy his friend was home.

"I bet." John chuckled before sitting down across from Sherlock. "Care to tell me your stories?"

"Would you boys like some tea?" Mrs. Hudson asked as she walked into the kitchen.

"Yes, please, Mrs. Hudson. Couple of biscuits if you've got any." John said over his shoulder before returning to the man in front of him.

"Just remember I'm not your housekeeper!" Mrs. Hudson called out from the kitchen.

Sherlock and John shared a small chuckle at her catch phrase. Ariel beamed at the two as she made herself comfortable on the sofa. It was good to see them back together. Mrs. Hudson carried in a tea tray and placed it on the coffee table before sitting down next to Ariel.

"So Sherlock, care to tell me how you got that nasty gash?" John asked, sipping his tea.

"Ariel and I were abducted, I was beaten and got cut with a knife." Sherlock stated. His nonchalant tone belittled the severity of the incident. John opened his mouthed to question Sherlock further, but Ariel stopped him.

"We'll talk about it later, John." Ariel said, quelling his questions for now. A hush fell over the room for a moment as every enjoyed their tea.

"John, dear, how's Harriet doing?" Mrs. Hudson asked sweetly. John smiled at her.

"She alright. Better now that the funerals done and over with and that she's back home." John replied. Mrs. Hudson nodded.

"Well John, I'll bet your hungry after all that traveling. Want to go out for dinner?" Ariel asked, standing up.

"Yes, that would be wonderful." John said, getting up as well.

"Sherlock?" Ariel asked, turning to the consulting detective.

"No." He said curtly. Ariel just nodded before grabbing her purse.

"Let me take that for you deary." Mrs. Hudson said, taking the cups and putting them in the kitchen.

"Right. Lets go." John said, leading the way out of the flat.

"Bye Sherlock!" Ariel called as she dashed after him. Sherlock simply grunted in reply.


	38. Catching Up

**Chapter XXXVIII**

John and Ariel made the short walk to the restaurant on the corner five minutes down the street, the same one in fact that they had lunch at during the Puzzler case. They sat across the small table in the rather busy restaurant. Ariel internal cursed their timing. Their rather flustered waitress made her way over and took orders for drinks and disappeared into the crowd leaving John and Ariel skimming through the menu.

"So, you wanted to talk." John said, putting down his menu. He ate here often enough to know what he wanted before he'd even sat down.

"Was it that obvious?" Ariel giggled, setting hers down as well.

"Unfortunately, yes. What's on your mind?" John asked.

"I just wanted you to get my account before Sherlock... well, before he put matters bluntly." Ariel said, straightening in her chair. John just nodded. Sometimes Sherlock couldn't tell when things needed a bit more tact.

"Well, start at the beginning. I'm all ears." John said, a lighthearted chuckle escaping from between his lips. Ariel smiled widely. Their waitress popped up again then with their drinks and asked for their orders. Once she had them, she was off again. Ariel followed her with her eyes for a moment until John cleared his throat and brought her back.

"So, the beginning. Right. That was the double homicide. Interesting case, though I did not enjoy being dragged to Brighton. Sherlock insisted we rent a room at the inn the couple had stayed in before dying and they only had one room left! So, we shared a room. He did his investigating that night and I went to bed. When I woke up, he was passed out drunk on my bed!" Ariel exclaimed, starting her story. John just laughed as he nursed his pint.

"That'd be Sherlock." He said, chuckling. Ariel nodded before continuing.

"Anyway, we caught the murderer. Next was the three days of boredom, which gratefully ended with Molly and Lestrade involving us in a quadruple homicide case. Though, not before he shot the wall, I'm afraid." Ariel stated. John just shook his head before Ariel continued. "That case, I got shot at, Sherlock decided to disappear and then when we rescued him, I was shot at again. Stumbled back into the flat and got a call from you, which you know how that went." She avoided Johns eyes as she said that. She wasn't sure how he had taken that. She heard John hum and tell her to go on.

"A couple days after that, we went out for lunch. It was a surprise, really, but it was nice. That was, until a bomb decided to go off in a nearby building. Sherlock couldn't stay away! Lestrade called him in later that afternoon and we were on the case. There was a small detour with Mycroft, but..." Ariel related, but John cut her off.

"Wait, you've met Mycroft?" John asked in utter disbelief. "And him and Sherlock were in the same room?"

"Yes. And you could cut the tension with a knife." Ariel giggled at Johns disbelief. She continued. "After that, we continued to work on the case. The next day, Sherlock and I did some investigating, which according to Sherlocks dictionary means 'rooting around other people's trash and interrogating them about it"." Ariel laughed at the visible shock on John Watson's face at the actions of his friend.

"I have to admit, it was rather fun. The interrogating part, not the trash. Got a good suspect out of it too." Ariel said, a wide smile at the memory. Then she remembered what came next, which was one of three events she really didn't want to talk about.

"Then what?" John promoted after a long moment of silence. Just as Ariel began floundering for words, she was granted a few more seconds to collect her thoughts as their food arrived. John dug in, hungry from the long hours of travel. Ariel ate a few bites before continuing. "Then, that night... it happened." She said, her eyes staring straight through him as she smiled at something invisible. She now had Johns full attention.

"I wanted to try something different. I made him dinner, lit candles, bought wine. I even put on some nicer clothes. I didn't think he cared about it, or even noticed until..." She stopped, words failing her. Johns eyes were locked on her now, not moving.

"I kissed him John. I kissed him, on the lips." Ariel said, looking John in the eyes. "And... I though I was wrong, that I'd done something wrong. But, he kissed me back. Sherlock kissed me. I told him I loved him and then the most amazing thing happened. He said he loved me too." Ariel could feel her own heart beating wildly in her chest. There was something magical about saying those words out loud. She was rudely interrupted from her revelling but an outburst of laughter from John. She glared at him until he had quieted down. As he reined in his laughter, he tried to speak.

"I'm sorry. I just can't imagine Sherlock saying that. You sure you didn't dream it?" John asked, his voice still full of barely contained laughter.

"As sure as I am that we woke up on the sofa together the next morning." She replied smugly. Johns jaw dropped a little at that and Ariel continued on with the story.

"Next day, we were informed by Lestrade that there had been a second bombing. Then there was a long day of experimenting and theory testing and... personal business. I had a nightmare and Sherlock found me drunk at the kitchen table the next morning. I blacked out on him and the next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. One of the doctors gave me something and I passed out again. Next time I woke up, I was in a locked room with Sherlock. We had been kidnapped right out of the hospital room." Ariel said over her quickly cooling stir fry. She once again had Johns full attention.

"We were confronted by our captor not long after, one Sebastian Moran. John, what I am about to tell you next could alter your view of me forever. I need you to know that I did what I thought was best and if I could go back and change it, I would." Ariel stated. John nodded, anticipating Ariel's next words. Ariel steeled herself for a moment before releasing a long breath and starting again.

"Moran had contacted me and asked me to provide him with information on Sherlock. I didn't know it was Moran at the time. My choice was between information or Sherlocks life. I choose to keep him alive. After I confessed my error to Sherlock, he forgave me and promised that we would escape." Ariel said slowly, making sure John was getting this. It was important he understood.

"Wow. Just... wow." John said, scrubbing at his face. His mind was slightly frazzled at the moment.

"I know John. I know. I'm sorry." Ariel said laying a comforting hand on Johns. After a few minutes of silence in which John mulled over this new information, he sighed.

"The past is the past. Lets move on." He said. Ariel smiled her thanks at him before continuing.

"I admit, after I told Sherlock, I wasn't... myself. And when Moran dragged him away, I thought all hope was lost. I thought that I had sent Sherlock to his death and that if only..." Ariel trailed off. Thinking back to that moment, those emotions, it was hard. John comforted her silently until she was ready to go on.

"Then, he dragged Sherlock back, bloody and beaten. It lit a rage in me I didn't know existed. Sherlock and I then planned our escape and, well, did just that. But not before fighting Moran one more time. God, the look on his smug face when Sherlock held a gun at him, it was wonderful." Ariel related with a small laugh.

"Lestrade arrived shortly after and took care of Moran and his men, and I took Sherlock to get stitches. Arrived home, sleep for a few hours, cleaned the flat and kept Sherlock off his leg. Then you arrived home and here we are." Ariel ended her little rant. She looked at John, realizing for the first time just how much had happened. The doctor just shook his head, trying to make sense of everything.

"You know, I should be mad at you for the kidnapping thing but, somehow, I understand what you went through to arrive at your decision and it's the same one I would have made." John said, smiling down at his plate of food. Ariel sighed. She had been stressed John wouldn't understand and he would hate her for it. Hearing him say he got it made her feel relaxed.

"Now, I've just got a question. Sherlock said  _what_  to you? The night you two... umm..." John said with a bit of a laugh. Ariel joined in before replying.

"His exact words or shall I paraphrase?" She asked.

"Exact words. Leave nothing out." John said with a broad grin.

"Alright. Well, after a long and rather awkward conversation he asked "Ariel, do you love me?" to which I said "Yes, but do you love me?". After what felt like ages, he finally said "Yes." His exact words." Ariel said, carefully watching Johns expression. It flashed between confusion, pity and something close to smugness before it finally settled on a friendly smile.

"That man's got a lot of explaining to do." John said with a light chuckle.

"Indeed. Just, don't treat him differently because of it. He's still struggling with it and John, I want this. More then anything else. Please, just leave it alone." Ariel pleaded, irrational fear that John might somehow mess up their relationship overcoming her.

"Ariel, I wouldn't dream of doing anything to hurt your relationship. But Sherlock owes it to me to give me some answers." John replied, a reassuring smile on his face. "And if it means anything to you, I will always support you two."

"Thanks John. That means a lot." Ariel said. She needed that.

"Now, you can't expect me to just go accepting a spy back in." John said with good willed humour.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that. Mycroft's already got a whole division watching me. It's like having my own little fan club." Ariel giggled. She had noticed the special attention she received shortly after they escaped. It seemed he wasn't trying to be discreet about it either.

"I'm on your side, John. I just got a little lost on the way." Ariel reassured him with one of her warm smiles. John returned it. He really wanted to trust Ariel, but her slip up had almost cost her and Sherlock their lives. He tried to push out of his mind what could happen if she messed up again.

**XXXXXXXX**

After their dinner, John and Ariel strolled back to 221b. They talked and laughed, making the short walk seem even shorter. John pushed open the door to the flat and let Ariel in. Just as she hung up her jacket in the hallway closet, they heard a loud crash from upstairs. John and Ariel shared a worried glance before dashing up the stairs.

There was a few small clatter and clanging noises as the two cautiously approached the door. John opened it carefully, ready for a fight. When nothing presented itself and a few more noises were made from the kitchen, the two carefully made their way over. But the sight that met their eyes made them giggle.

Sherlock was sprawled out on the floor, trying desperately to get up with a crutch and failing miserably. There were pots and pans and an array of equipment colouring the floor around him. Ariel rushed to his side and helped him up.

"You alright?" She asked, worryingly looking him over.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Sherlock huffed, annoyed. Being incapacitated wasn't something he was used too.

"Good." Ariel said with a smile. She was glad her detective was safe. She bent down and began cleaning up the mess. John joined in a second later.

"It's good to have you home." Sherlock said. Ariel and John shared a discrete smile.


	39. Look How The Stars Shine

**Chapter XXXIX**

After cleaning up Sherlocks mess, the three of them sat down for a quiet evening in the living room of 221b Baker Street. Ariel curled up on the sofa and simply watched John and Sherlock. There was some light conversation between the two, some simple, friendly exchanges, but nothing interesting. At least, not until Sherlock decided to deduce information about Johns trip.

"You have a new girlfriend." Sherlock stated, ending a long, silent stretch. John cocked his eyebrow at Sherlock before allowing himself a small chuckle.

"How did you work that out? Lipstick on my shirt collar or something?" John teased.

"No. You're very well kept for having been two weeks on holiday. Plus there's the perfume on your clothing, not the same brand your sister uses, so another woman's, and the traces of lipstick on your cheek simply give it away." Sherlock replied coolly, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. John shook his head, a large smile on his face. The detective was unbelievable.

"You're right. I've got myself a girl. Her names Skye. Lives in London, but was on a business trip to Singapore. Banker." John said, briefly stating the important information about his newest girlfriend. Sherlock just hummed in acknowledgement and they settled into a comfortable silence yet again. The dark that had fallen over London hours before was now thick outside, broken occasionally by a passing car. Ariel let out a small yawn.

"Are you staying the night?" John asked when he heard her. Ariel started to answer, but Sherlock cut her off.

"Of course." Sherlock said dismissively. John looked at Sherlock sternly.

"Alright. But where will she be staying? I'm sure she'd like to sleep sometime tonight." John said pointedly. Sherlock looked confused for a moment, as if this idea had not crossed his mind, before replying.

"She can have my room. I don't need to sleep anyway." He replied with an irritated sigh. Was it really so confusing? Ariel felt like an intruder on something, so she quickly made an excuse and retired to bed. When she had left, John looked pointedly at Sherlock.

"You need to take better care of her." He said firmly. Sherlock cocked his head at the doctor.

"Why? She is a very capable woman." Sherlock comment. John set his jaw, enraged.

"Because..." He started, but was cut off by Sherlock.

"I know she told you about our night together. But be honest, John. We both know I am not the easiest person to get along with. If she wants this, she'll manage." Sherlock concluded, trying to end the conversation. It was starting to enter uncomfortable territory.

"No, Sherlock. A relationship works both ways. You have to want it, and work for it, too. Otherwise, it all goes to pieces." John said, waving his finger accusingly at Sherlock.

"What am I supposed to do John?! You know I'm almost incapable of emotions! And then she came waltzing in here and turned everything I knew on end! I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore and that scares me, John. It really scares me!" Sherlock suddenly burst out.

He wasn't even aware he had said the words out loud until they were followed by deafening silence and a staring flatmate. Sherlock worried he had once again overstepped a boundary. But John let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

"You really don't know, do you? And you say I'm the stupid one." John chuckled out, meeting the eyes of his friend. Sherlock looked like a lost dog, as he tried desperately to understand what John meant.

"Sherlock, you love her. And trust me, she loves you. But you have to try to show her that, alright? Think about how things will affect her." John said soothingly, his eyes sparkling with happiness at his friend. Sherlock nodded weakly. He hated being in this position, the weaker one, but he knew John had more experience in this area.

"What should I do?" Sherlock asked, taking a deep breath. Then, he listened carefully to the advice his friend had to give.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel quietly climb out the window in Sherlocks room and made her way up the fire escape to the roof. She hoisted herself up and onto the roof, then stood in awe of the sight above her. The stars were spread out like diamonds on black velvet, each one shining and glittering in its place.

Ariel lowered herself down to the rooftop, laying down beneath the endless night sky. She wouldn't normally seem this - the beautiful night sky above London - but tonight, from this spot, she could catch just a glimpse of it. Ariel sighed, contentment and wonder washing over her as she gazed up at the heavens.

Ariel remembered when she was a child, how her father had taught her about the constellations, the stories behind each one and how she could spot them. Most of them had long since been forgotten, but she remembered three; Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, and Orion's Belt.

As she searched the night sky for the three constellations she remembered, Ariel picked out other ones that she recalled as she saw them, like Draco and Aries. She laid there in utter silence for several minutes, listening to the sound of her own breathing and gazing up into the endless night sky.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A deep voice rang out in the relative silence. Ariel sat up and saw Sherlock walking towards her.

"I didn't think you cared for the stars." Ariel said with a smirk as she hugged her legs. Sherlock sat down beside her.

"It doesn't mean I can't appreciate them." He said quietly. They stared into space together, two tiny beings against the star studded skies. Ariel laid back down, helping to block out the city's glow from her view.

"Lay down." Ariel whispered to Sherlock and he joined her on his back. They stared blissfully silent into the night for what felt like hours and yet at the same time felt only like seconds. Ariel's hand came to rest atop one of Sherlocks. He revelled at the touch.

"You see that string of stars there?" Ariel asked, raising her other hand and pointing into the sky. "That's Ursa Minor, or the Little Dipper. The Greek myth is that it represents a nymph named Ida, who protected Zeus when he was a child, along with another nymph named Adrasteia. Adrasteia is represented by Ursa Major, or the Big Dipper." Ariel told Sherlock, smiling as she shared with him information he probably never knew.

"Really? How interesting." Sherlock said, turning his hand around underneath Ariel's so he could interlace their fingers and give her hand a squeeze. The smile on Ariel's face grew wider as he did.

"And you see those stars over there? That's Draco. He represents the dragon Ladon, who was slain by Hercules. But the goddess Hera put his image in the sky because Ladon had guarded her garden." Ariel said, the story spewing out of her mouth. Sherlock hummed, and she smiled as he tightened his grip on her hand.

Ariel continued to list off the constellations she knew, each time telling the Greek myth that went with them. Sherlock just hummed in agreement or made a brief comment, watching the sky as he held Ariel's hand. There was a moment of silence after Ariel finished the last one. She drew in a deep breath.

"I love the stars." She whispered, letting out a content sigh as she clutched Sherlocks hand. A wide smile curled Sherlocks lips.

"Not as much as I love you." He whispered back. Sherlock heard Ariel's breath hitch. They were silent again, the two of them lying on the rooftop of the London flat, staring up at the stars. It was so peaceful, despite the occasional traffic below them.

Ariel thought she could lay like this forever. She could feel Sherlocks presences beside her, feel his warm grasp on her hand, feel the slight flutter of his pulse. She could hear him breathing softly and if she strained her ears she could imagine hearing his heart beat.

She could even smell him, his warm, manly musk mixed with chlorine and ammonium, with the faint notes of the wood fire that was burning in the flat. Ariel took a deep breath and held it. She wanted to stay in this moment forever. She wanted to have the mad detective always by her side, to feel and hear and smell him always.

And for the first time since he said yes, she didn't doubt that he wanted her as well. Ariel let out her held breath slowly, a silent pray that things would always be this way, that she would forever more have this man beside her.

Sherlock listened, counting the seconds between Ariel's breaths. He loved how she knew he did this, though she never said a word. He felt her warm body beside him. Never in his life had Sherlock felt the desire to stay in a moment forever. He normally couldn't wait to see what happened next, what the next piece of the puzzle was. But right now, all he wanted to do was lie next to Ariel, under the night sky. He was at peace, his mind hushed, stilled, accepting and really living this moment with her.

"Sherlock..." Ariel whispered as she curled up closer to him. Sherlock drew a deep breath.

"Yes?" He answered, his voice a breathless whisper. He turned his head to look at Ariel, finding her already staring at him.

"Can I..." Her voice faltered and Sherlocks brain raced through a thousand possible endings. Ariel timidly started again.

"May I... kiss you?"

The question hung heavily in the air and Sherlock was frozen in place. He didn't do feelings, he could never figure them out. Ariel knew this, but even so, she had, and would continue to, help him understand them. The emotion behind her voice was nothing short of love and desire. And that in his voice when he answered, however small it was, was a trembling return of uncertainty and passion.

"Yes." Sherlock breathed. Ariel's eyes flickered down to their joined hands, before fixating on Sherlocks, a faint smile on her lips. Sherlock closed his eyes as Ariel inched forward to join her soft lips with his. Sherlock sighed with contentment, smiling into the kiss. It was a simple meeting of lips at first, but as the seconds ticked by, Ariel deepened the kiss.

After a few more seconds, she gently pulled away. She stared into Sherlocks endless grey blue eyes, completely spellbound. She felt so immensely lucky to have been allowed to get this close to him. Ariel squeezed his hand, a happy smile on her face. There was no where else she'd rather be.

Sherlock returned her smile, beaming down at her. His heart felt warm in his chest and all he could think about was her. No matter how much he could have wanted to, his mind palace seemed inaccessible. But he didn't mind. He had his heart, right here, in his arms. After what felt like hours of smiling at each other in silence, Ariel broke it with a warm laugh.

"Come on, it's freezing up here." She said, getting up. She pulled Sherlock up beside her and immediately, he wrapped his long arms around her, holding her firmly in place.

"Do you remember when I told you caring was not an advantage?" Sherlock spoke quietly into her ear. Ariel hummed in agreement.

"Do you remember what you said?" Sherlock asked in the same low tone. Ariel nodded.

"I told you it wasn't a disadvantage either." She said, looking up at him. He gave her one of his half smiles.

"I am finally beginning to see what you meant." He said, bending down to gently peck her lips. Ariel smiled at the brief kiss. Her eyes sparkled up at him in the moon light.

"I have one. Love is a chemical defect found in the losing side." Ariel purred, repeating a phrase she had heard Sherlock use before. She smiled as he recognized it.

"Oh really? Then I'm losing to you." Sherlock replied, a light chuckle in his tone. Ariel giggled before walking towards the fire escape and returning inside, Sherlock in tow.

Beautiful artwork done by the absolutely fabulous [Johix](http://johix.tumblr.com)!


	40. This is Home

**Chapter XXXX**

The next morning in 221b, John woke up, a smile on his face at the familiar and comforting surroundings. Lazily, he put on his dressing gown and padded down the stairs to make himself breakfast. He stopped short at a peculiar sound.

As John descended the stairs, he heard soft violin music drifting from the living room. He quickly dismissed it as Sherlock being Sherlock. But he stopped in the corner of the living room, noticing that Sherlock was playing for an audience. Ariel lay on the sofa, sound asleep. John crept in as Sherlock finished his piece.

"Don't worry John, she is asleep." Sherlock said quietly, never raising his eyes from the sleeping figure. John smiled at this small display of affection.

"Why is she out here? I thought she was staying in your room." John asked quietly as he crossed towards the kitchen to make breakfast.

"She had a nightmare and came to sit out her with me. After a while, I could see that she was not going to go back to sleep, so I offered to play her some soothing violin. She fell asleep shortly after." Sherlock explained, tucking the violin under his chin to play another piece. John nodded his understanding.

"That must have been hours ago. Why are you still playing?" John asked, stepping towards his friend. Sherlock glanced briefly at John before returning his gaze to Ariel.

"Because, it keeps her calm." He stated. John just gave a smile and ducked into the kitchen to make himself breakfast, listening to the light notes of Sherlocks violin.

John made himself toast with jam and some tea as quietly as he could before returning to the living room and sitting in his favourite armchair.  _It's so good to be home_. He thought contently, eating his toast. Sherlocks song hit peaks and valleys, before slowly fading away. The consulting detective lowered his violin, eyes carefully studying the sleeping woman on the sofa across from him. John smiled.

"You are, you know." John said before sipping his tea. Sherlocks head turned to look at him questioningly.

"I am, what?" Sherlock asked coolly.

"Last night you told me you were, and I quote, "incapable of emotions'. But you lied. You are, more then capable in fact." John said, a small grin toying at the corners of his lips. Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned back to Ariel.

"Taking care of her, watching over her, just proves that." John continued, leaning in towards his friend.

"You know what I meant John." Sherlock said, not looking at him. John sighed.

"Sherlock..." John started, but Sherlock cut him off.

"I would rather not have this conversation right now. Especially with Ariel in the room." Sherlock said, staring straight into Johns eyes all of a sudden. John sighed again and nodded. Now wasn't really the time to have this discussion.

John ate his breakfast in silence, Sherlock retreated into his mind palace. As John was writing up a brief overview of his trip to Singapore for his blog, Ariel began to stir. John looked up from his laptop, catching Sherlock snapping out of his trance by her slight movements. John grinned. It took a lot more then moving to get Sherlock to notice John when he was in his mind palace.

"Morning." Ariel said with a small yawn. She gingerly sat up, stretching.

"Morning." Sherlock replied, a slight grin on his face. Ariel gave his a big, bright smile.

"Morning Ariel." John said from his chair, briefly glancing up from his laptop to smile at her. Ariel just nodded at John, acknowledging his words as she yawned again.

"Well, I suppose I should shower." Ariel said, a little giggle in her voice. She got up and headed for the bathroom, stopping briefly to grab her things from Sherlocks room. When she was gone, John looked pointedly at Sherlock.

"No, we are not having that conversation now." Sherlock said firmly before pushing himself out of his chair and making his way to his room to change. John just rolled his eyes at the detective and went back to his blog.

**XXXXXXXXX**

Ariel curled up on the sofa, a towel wrapped around her still damp hair. She sat with her laptop on her knees, drinking a cup of tea. John worked on his laptop at the table and Sherlock sat silently in his armchair, thinking. The flat was absolutely silent except for the clicking of computer keys and the occasional sip of tea.

Sherlock scanned the room, checking up on Ariel and John. John seemed silently frustrated at his computer.  _Probably another malfunction with his blog_. Sherlock thought, turning to glance at Ariel. He noticed a slight furrow of her brow, a small frown and a look of hurt in her eyes.

A flash if emotion spiked up in Sherlock. How dare anyone hurt her! Sherlock pushed himself out of his chair, crossed the distance in two long strides and sat down on the sofa next to Ariel. She raised her eyebrows at him as she closed her laptop.

"What happened?" Sherlock asked. Ariel gave him a small masking smile.

"Nothing at all. Why?" She replied lightly. Sherlock didn't need to know about the email she had just received.

"Ariel, there's no point trying to hide it. Whatever it is. Tell me." Sherlock persisted. By now, John was watching them over the top of his laptop. Ariel and Sherlock had a momentary staring contest, which Sherlock won. Ariel let out a sigh of defeat.

"I just got an email from my landlord. He's sold the building, due to his health. I'm to be moved out by the end of the week." Ariel said sadly.

"What? He can't do that to you!" Sherlock cried, outraged. Ariel gave him a sad smile.

"I knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Him and I had already talked about it." She said, trying to calm him. There was no need to make a scene. There was a moment of silence where Sherlock seemed to process this information. John just watched them.

"I'll be alright Sherlock." Ariel said sweetly, gently turning his head to face her. She gave him a smile, one which he gladly returned.

"Where will you go?" He asked after a moments thought. Ariel shrugged.

"I'll find a place. I always do." She giggled. "There's lots of flats in London." Sherlock nodded. Ariel sighed sadly. There was a long pause, which was ended when Mrs. Hudson knocked lightly on the door.

"You-who!" She called cheerily as she entered carrying a plate of cake. She stopped short when she saw the gloomy pair on the couch.

"What's the matter, dears?" Mrs. Hudson asked, setting the cake down on the table near John. He smiled his thanks before helping himself.

"Ariel has just been informed of her eviction from her flat. She must be out at the end of the week." Sherlock swiftly informed his landlady. Ariel felt that he was more upset her eviction then she was.

"Oh no! Do you have a place to go, sweetheart?" The elder lady ask Ariel. Ariel gently shook her head.

"No, not yet. But I'll find something." She replied, a small smile on her face. Mrs. Hudson looked pitifully at Ariel. Before either could say anything, Sherlock jumped in.

"Mrs. Hudson, isn't 221c currently empty?" He asked, though he already knew the answer. Mrs. Hudson look at his curiously.

"Of course it is. But a damp basement flat is hardly the proper place for a young lady." She replied. Sherlock locked eyes with Ariel for a moment, silently asking her what she thought. Ariel turned and looked up at Mrs. Hudson.

"Is it possible for me to rent it? For the time being, at least?" Ariel asked the elder lady. Mrs. Hudson smiled brightly.

"If that's what you want dear, then of course you can. But would you like to come look at it before you decide?" She asked kindly. Ariel smiled and nodded.

"I would love that. Just let me go deal with my hair first, if you don't mind." She said, getting up and rushing to the bathroom. Mrs. Hudson just shook her head, smiling, at the retreating girl. The landlady turned back to Sherlock and John.

"I hope you know what you've just proposed to her, Sherlock dear. That flat is in need of a lot of work." She said sternly. Sherlock shrugged.

"I'm sure that between us we can make it livable for her." Sherlock said, relaxing on the sofa. Mrs. Hudson sighed and looked at John.

"What are your thoughts, Doctor Watson?" She asked kindly. John gave a small smile.

"I think having her close would be a good thing. As for the flat, last I saw it, it was decent." John admitted, a sly grin on his face. It would be a good thing for Sherlock. Ariel appeared, blonde hair hanging freely on her shoulders.

"Mrs. Hudson? Shall we take a look at the flat?" She asked cheerily, stepping up beside her. Mrs. Hudson nodded and led the way down the stairs. There was silence in the flat as Sherlock listened to the retreating steps of the two women on the stairs.

"She doesn't need to know. " Sherlock said, seemingly to no one. John quirked his eyebrow at his friend.

"Oh? Who doesn't need to know what?" He prompted.

"Mrs. Hudson. She doesn't need to know about Ariel and I." Sherlock replied. John chuckled.

"Why? What's she going to do?" John asked, laughingly.

"She'll make fun of me." Sherlock mumbled, just loud enough for John to hear. John roared in laughter at this.

"Make fun of you? Sherlock, she will be incredibly happy for you, trust me." John said, barely containing his laughter at the ridiculous fear of his friend. Sherlocks head snapped around to look at John.

"You think?" He said, sounding almost hopeful. John shook his head, still smiling.

"I know. She cares about you, Sherlock. She will be happy." John reassured him. Sherlock seemed to consider this for a moment before sighing.

"Alright then. But I wish to be the one to tell her, understood?" Sherlock said, flopping back onto the sofa.

"Sure thing." John said, still chuckling lightly as he returned to his laptop and his second piece of cake.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Mrs. Hudson opened the door of 221c and Ariel peered in.

"Its not what I would call ideal, sweetheart, but if you want it, it's yours." Mrs. Hudson said, leading Ariel inside. Ariel studied the interior of the flat.

There were places where the wallpaper was peeling, it's was cold and damp and poorly lit at the moment as the majority of lightbulbs were missing. The kitchen was missing a fridge and there was an odd smell in the flat, but as Ariel looked around, all she could imagine was the possibilities for the place.

She saw all her belongings moved in, how homey it would look. If she replaced the peeling wallpaper, how spiffy it could look. The flat was bigger then her current one, but still small and cozy. She walked into the middle of the living room, doing a slow circle as she looked over the entire flat. She let out a small sigh of satisfaction. This was it, the place she wanted.

"I want it, Mrs. Hudson." She said finally. Mrs. Hudson seemed a bit taken aback.

"Are you sure? I'm sure you could find a nicer place..." She started, but Ariel interrupted.

"I'm sure. This feels like home already." She said with wide smile as she faced her.

"Then it's yours, sweetheart. Lets go get the paperwork." Mrs. Hudson said, smiling.


	41. An Old Mystery

**Chapter XXXXI**

Ariel signed her name on the bottom of the paperwork, a large smile on her face. She had found a home. She put down her pen and scoped up Mrs. Hudson in a hug.

"Thank you." She whispered in the older woman's ear. Mrs. Hudson smiled as she hugged Ariel back.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." She replied. They broke apart, large grins on their faces. Ariel heard a kettle whistling from upstairs. John must have made tea.

"Care to join me for a cup of tea upstairs, Mrs. Hudson?" Ariel asked sweetly.

"Sure dear." She replied. Ariel lead the way up the stairs, holding the door open for her new landlady. Mrs. Hudson made herself comfortable on the sofa which Sherlock had long since vacated. Sherlock was picking at his violin, John was in the kitchen and Ariel went to help him. John entered carrying a few plates for the cake and Ariel brought out a tray full of tea cups and a tea pot.

"Well, I have good news." Ariel said as she set down the tray. All eyes turned to look at her. There was a long pause.

"Which would be?" John started when the seconds dragged on.

"I'm moving in to 221c. I've already signed the papers." She said, beaming.

John congratulated her with a friendly hug. Sherlock broke into a smile. Everyone settled down, Ariel sitting beside Mrs. Hudson and John sitting in his armchair. They then began making arrangements for Ariel.

"John, would you help me move in?" She asked as they sipped tea. John nodded.

"Of course. Whatever you need." John replied, a smile on his face.

"Thanks." She said, smiling back. Sherlock moved from his chair to stand at the window, staring down at the street.

"Sherlock dear? What is it?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"The police." Sherlock said vaguely. Then, as if on cue, Lestrade burst into the flat, panting heavily.

"Sherlock..." He managed. Sherlock already had his eyes locked on the deceive inspector.

"What is it Lestrade?" He asked flippantly. He went back to playing with his violin in his armchair. Lestrade seemed to have caught his breath.

"Kidnappings. Mother and daughter. Two different places, within an hour of each other. Both went into bathrooms and never came out." Lestrade summarized briefly. Sherlock quirked his eyebrow, curiosity piqued. He seemed to ponder this new information for a moment. Lestrade patiently waited for an answer to the unspoken question.

"Yes, alright, fine, I'll help." Sherlock finally said. He started pacing the room, thinking. Lestrade let out a relieved sigh before turning in his heels and stepping towards the door. When he didn't hear anyone following him, he looked over his shoulder. John and Ariel were frozen, looking between the DI and Sherlock. The consulting detective was oblivious to the exchange that was going on. When he noticed the three sets of eyes on him, he looked questioningly at them.

"Are you coming?" Lestrade asked impatiently. Sherlock groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Of course. But not in the police car. We'll be right behind you." He said dismissively to Lestrade, turning his back on the DI. Lestrade sighed and padded down the stairs.

John moved to get his gun, Ariel move to get her jacket. Sherlock jumped giddily around the flat, darting into his room to grab something and throwing on his coat. He practically skipped out of 221b and as Ariel followed she wondered, not for the first time, how John managed to deal with him.

Sherlock hailed the cab and held the door open for his two friends before popping in and instructing the cabbie to follow the police cruiser. The three arrived shortly at the scene of the first kidnapping - the school where the daughter had been abducted.

The girl, who was thirteen years old, had been at a Saturday acting course offered in Balham, south London. Her dream was to become an actress, though what girl doesn't dream that at some point? Her name was Elizabeth Taylor, Lizzie to her friends. She had left for the loo, and after twenty minutes the teacher wondered what happened to her.

The whole class searched for her, but she was nowhere to be found. Other students had tried calling her mobile, but to no avail. The teacher called her parents, thinking they may know where she was, but were met again without results.

All this Sherlock heard over and over again as he tried to interrogate the witnesses. It was extremely tedious. Sherlock huffed and left the third student mid sentence and gaping at his retreating back. He was going to investigate the scene of the crime. He pushed open the door to the loo, scoping out the area.

There were three stalls, two sinks and one small window, placed high in the far wall. Sherlock inspected every inch of the room, careful not to miss anything. Lestrade showed up as Sherlock pulled off his rubber gloves.

"Ah, Lestrade. You need to stop looking in here." Sherlock said, a smug grin threatening to make an appearance. The police officer looked baffled.

"Why Sherlock? This is where she was abducted from." Lestrade asked, confused.

"No, she was abducted from somewhere else. Shoe marks on the floor, one set in, one set out. This building is cleaned top to bottom Saturday morning, and she was the first one in here, meaning, these footprints are hers. If that is the case, which it is, then she did not get abducted from the restroom, but rather somewhere outside." Sherlock ranted, exasperated by the amount of idiots that surrounded him.

He shoved past Lestrade, looking for a trail of footprints outside the bathrooms door, but in the narrow hallway dozens of tracks joined that of the kidnapped girl. Sherlock smirked at the new challenge, bending down to examine the pathway closer. When no new evidence was to be gained, he stood up and briskly walked outside.

Ariel and John were standing talking to some of the students. Ariel glanced up and caught Sherlock walking towards the street. She grabbed Johns arm, dragging him along, and made her way to where Sherlock was already hailing a cab.

"Where do you think your going?" John questioned. Sherlock stuffed his mobile in his pocket and got in the cab as he replied.

"Crime scene. Where the mother was abducted. Do try and keep up John." He mumbled. John rolled his eyes and hopped in after him, Ariel following suit. They soon were speeding off in the direction of a large office type building.

Five stories high, an older building judging by its lack of large glass paneling. The mother, Mrs. Melody Taylor, worked as an accountant at some private company and had last been scene entering the women's washrooms on the second floor of the building which Sherlock, John and Ariel were now entering.

Sherlock decided to skip the questioning this time, choosing to leave that job in the hands of the doctor and his... girlfriend. Sherlock shuddered inwardly at that word. He had less of a problem being in a relationship with her, but using that term made him sick. He just hated having to label it as such a common thing.

The elevator doors opened on the second floor and out stroke Sherlock, headed straight for the yellow police tape around the washroom doors. He went to push past it before being stopped by Sergeant Sally Donavan.

"You aren't allowed in here, freak." She quipped, blocking his path. Sherlock glared at her, towering above the petite policewoman.

"Well according to your boss, I am. So let me in." Sherlock sneered, moving to push past her. Surprisingly, though, Sally pushed him back. Sherlock stared at her curiously.

"I don't care what Lestrade says, but if he's not here, I'm not letting you in." Sergeant Donovan said defiantly. The smirk on her face made her look like she had won.

At that moment, Ariel peeked around the corner looking for Sherlock. She found him in a stare down with a short policewoman who looked very smug. It only took one second for Ariel to decide that she did not like this woman, at all. Ariel hung back, waiting to see what would happen next. Sherlock spoke first.

"Fine. I will just call him, shall I?" He asked, pulling out his mobile before punching in the numbers of the DI. Unfortunately for him though, all he got was Lestrades answering machine. Sherlock sulked, and the woman beamed in triumph.

"You see? Even Lestrades not answering your calls. Maybe you need to learn your place, freak." Sally taunted. Sherlock glared menacingly at her, but that only seemed to slow her down, not stop completely. After a moment, she spoke again.

"You're a freak. And no one loves a freak." Donavan commented backhandedly. Ariel had heard enough. No one talked to Sherlock like that. But instead of fists, she decided to fight this war a different way. Ariel straightened herself up and strode in at her full height towards the two.

"Sherlock." She said as she approached, pretending not to have heard Sally's unforgivable words as a wide smile played on her lips.

"Sherlock, John needs you downstairs. He said its urgent." Ariel spared a dirty look at Sally before she leaned up and placed a chaste kiss to Sherlocks lips.

At first Sherlock went ridged, unsure of what to make of this sudden expression. But after a second, he relaxed into the kiss. She smiled at him as she pulled away from him a moment later, a silent reminder that she would always love him. Sherlock had a smirk as his mind figured out why she had kissed him in front of Sergeant Donavan. Ariel turned to see Sally with her jaw dropped and eyes wide, her smirk nowhere in sight.

Ariel turned back to Sherlock and pulled him away, towards the lift. As they walked, arm in arm, she could feel Sally staring daggers at her back. But Ariel didn't cared. She had proved that horrible woman wrong and with any luck, showed Sherlock she really cared. As the rode the lift, Sherlock broke the silence.

"What does John need?" He asked. Ariel smiled to herself.

"He doesn't. I just wanted to prove her wrong." She said, leaning against the lift walls. Sherlock grinned at her, a soft, breathy chuckle escaping his lips. Ariel alway had a trick up her sleeve. It just so happened that he particularly enjoyed this one, as it had left Sergeant Donavan completely incapacitated.

The doors opened and they stepped out. John quirked an eyebrow at them from his spot. He was currently leaning against the receptionists desk, writing something down. Sherlock and Ariel walked up beside John, and Sherlock lent over to ask the receptionist,  
"Where is Mrs. Taylor's cubical?" The receptionist blinked at him, as she tried to remember.

"Uh... Second floor, on the left hand, second row, tree over from the windows. I believe." She replied. Sherlock nodded briefly before heading back towards the lift. Ariel trailed at his heels as he took the stairs instead of the lift. With a flourish of his coat he turned the corner and pushed his way thought the fire doors to the second floor.

He looked around, trying to judge where it was the receptionists instructions would have been from and then looked for the corresponding cubical. Seconds later, he enter in to the small work space. He looked for clues, anything out of the ordinary. At first nothing struck him.

There were pictures of her & her family and her degree in Accounting all hung proudly on the wall. A coffee mug with "My Darling Wife" written on the side. Children's drawings displayed. A cushion on the chair, evidently to help with back pain. Files and folders, all neatly organized. Even her pens were neatly placed in a jar made out of macaroni.

That's when he noticed it, the note, pinned to her wall. He grabbed it.

 _Ready for another mystery?_  
This ones got some real history  
Your friend, the Puzzler


	42. Where Do We Go From Here?

**Chapter XXXXII**

"You don't think it could be him, do you?" Ariel asked nervously from her spot in Lestrades office. Upon finding the note, Sherlock went straight to the office of the DI. not saying a word to anyone on the way. Lestrade had been notified and had arrived shortly after.

"It's possible." Sherlock said quietly, thinking. Lestrade hung up his phone.

"Well, Wallace is still in prison. In fact he's currently playing a game of chess, I do believe. So it's not him. But..." Lestrade said, trailing off as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"But what?" Ariel asked, feigning calmness. Lestrade sighed.

"Remember the guy's accomplice? Toby Stiller?" He asked the room.

"You mean the guy who tried to blow us up?" John asked, a hint of anger in his voice.

"Yeah. Him." Lestrade sighed heavily again. "Look, he was released from prison a month ago on good behaviour. He also pleaded that he was forced into doing Wallace's bidding. Now, it doesn't look like it." Silence fell on the room as each individual contemplated what that meant for them.

"So... He's our kidnapper then?" Ariel asked slowly, the piece of the puzzle sliding together in her fear addled brain.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But he's our best bet right now." Sherlock said contemplating. "Where is he?"

"We don't know." Lestrade answered plainly. Sherlock blinked at the DI, confused.

"What do you mean you don't know?" John asked.

"We don't know, John. We've lost track of him. I've got no idea where he is." Lestrade answered, sounding frustrated. He ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair.

"Look, everyone, calm down. Just take a deep breath. We'll get him." Ariel encouraged. She gave a wry, tired smile to the room. John and Lestrade could audibly be heard taking deep breaths in the now quiet room.

"Alright. Good. What have we got so far?" Ariel ask the men in the room.

"Toby Stiller is our most likely bet. He was involved with the original "Puzzler"." John said plainly. Lestrade nodded.

"Yeah. But we don't know where he is. And we need to find those two women, if they're still alive." Lestrade reminded them. Ariel looked thoughtfully.

"Sherlock? You got anything?" She asked, turning to the unusually quiet man. He nodded briefly.

"Well, we know the girl came out of the washroom. Most likely she bumped into someone she knew there. Lestrade, you might want to check if our previous bomber was working at Balham." Sherlock stated in his usual tone. Lestrade nodded and stepped out of the room to order a check on the facility.

"It's possible that the girl knew the man, or woman, who kidnapped her. It's easier to abduct children that way. Where as the mother would be just as trusting of a stranger in the building where she worked, believing it was a secure area." Sherlock explained.

"How would he have gotten them out without anyone noticing?" John asked, confused.

"There were very few staff at the place where the girl was taken, so he could have walked her right out the front door. The mother, though, thats the tricky one." Sherlock said, resigning into his traditional thinking position. Silence fell on the room. A few minutes past, each one deep in their own thoughts. They were brought back to reality by a light knock at he door.

"Here you are, sir. Background checks on each of the workers of Balham." A cheery brunette said as she entered the room and placed a stack of manila folders on Lestrades desk. Lestrade gave her a brief nod.

"Thank you Elizabeth." He said as he flipped open the first folder. She quickly retreated, leaving them in silence again.

"So... she's back from her maternity leave, then?" Ariel observed. The three men turned to stare at her briefly.

"Yeah, she is. How did you...?" Lestrade asked, confused.

"The first time I was in here, you said she was on maternity leave. Then, she came in today, so obviously she back." Ariel explained. Lestrade silently accepted her explanation with a stunned look and slowly returned his attention to the folders.

For a minute, the room was silent, until Sherlock pushed himself out of the chair and strode towards the door. Ariel and John turned in their chairs.

"Come along John, Ariel. No point sitting around when we have work to do." Sherlock said, exiting the room. John and Ariel scrambled up after him, John shooting an apologetic glance to Lestrade. A second after all three had left the room, Sherlock popped his head back through Lestrades office door.

"Oh, and by the way, you really need to inform Donavan the I am allowed on crime scenes. Her display this afternoon was highly intolerable." He quipped, disappearing before Lestrade could respond. The DI shook his head in irritation before returning to his folders.

**XXXXXXXX**

The cab ride home was particularly tense. Sherlock could sense that Ariel was nervous, probably due to the fact that one of the men who had tried to kill her was back on the streets.

Sherlock also sensed the budding excitement in John, who was eager to get back to a case. His two weeks in Singapore must have been absolutely boring. The cab pulled up outside 221b and Sherlock quite quickly made it up the stairs and to his chair. Ariel honestly couldn't believe that someone who had just been beaten up violently not three days ago could move so fast and gracefully.

Once inside, everyone silently went to their normal spots; Sherlock to his armchair to think, John to the table with his laptop and Ariel to the sofa with her laptop. An hour past in complete and utter silence until Sherlock broke it.

"Shut up, both of you." He mumbled from his chair. Ariel and John shared a look before their eyes stared at the detective.

"But we weren't..." Ariel began.

"You were typing, it's annoying." He grumbled. John rolled his eyes and went back to typing. Ariel, however, shut her laptop and walked away. When John heard a door shut, he looked up and noticed that Ariel had left the flat.

"Sherlock, that wasn't very nice." John chastised his friend. Sherlock just huffed.

"I'm busy. She's distracting me." He replied curtly.

"Maybe, but she is your... well, whatever she is, she loves you and cares about you and, probably most importantly, cares what you think." John responded. "You can't treat her that way."

"This is how I am John, you know that. If she can't take it then she might as well leave." Sherlock replied, uncurling from the ball he was in to look pointedly at John. John just shook his head in disbelief.

"I don't believe it. You're actually telling me that you won't be nice to the one girl on earth that would rather die than see you hurt, because you found her typing annoying?" John had heard enough of Sherlock dismissing Ariel. He knew that Sherlock did care, but he didn't know how to show it.

"Listen, if there weren't two people who needed to be saved right now, I'd rip you off that arm chair and teach you a few things. But seeing as how there are lives at stake, I'll let you slide this once. But remember, soon as this case is over, I'm teaching you how to treat her properly." John vowed to Sherlock.

The taller man cocked his eyebrows at John, as if to challenge the integrity of his words. But the shorter man just huffed off to his room, laptop in hand. Finally, Sherlock was left in utter silence.

He relaxed a moment, drawing in a deep breath and retreating fully into his mind palace. He opened the door to the large building, filled with all the knowledge he had compiled. He walked down its lengthy corridors, climbed its spiral stairs and peaked into several doors. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not get Johns words out of his head.

" _You won't be nice to the one girl on earth that would rather die than see you hurt_ ", that's what he said. Is that how Ariel felt? Did she tell that to John, or had that been his own deduction? Whatever it was, his words made Sherlock feel guilty.

He knew he had not intentionally done anything wrong, but it would seem that he had offended Ariel's feelings. And though he would never admit it except to the one he loved, he cared about how she felt and what she thought about him. He returned to the task he had been asked to complete, vowing to make amends when Ariel returned.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel walked down the busy London streets. She didn't really know where she was going, all she knew was that she wanted to walk. Walking calmed her down, cleared her head and allowed her time to reflect.

She wasn't mad at Sherlock, he was trying to work. What she was mad about was the Puzzler being back. How could someone be stupid enough to let a man who almost bombed her out of prison? Now he had kidnapped two women, and who could say whether they were still alive or not. Ariel shuddered at the thought. They had to be, they just had to be.

She wandered down a quiet street deep in thought. After mulling it over for the millionth time, she decided to leave it to Sherlock. Him and his big brain could figure it out. He was amazing. There was no other way to put it. The way he could look at you and tell you your whole life story, down to what you had for breakfast that morning, was incredible. Ariel felt that never a day would go by without her being in awe of him. He had such a beautiful mind, always experimenting, deducing, reading. He loved to learn, and Ariel was entranced just to watch.

A slow, suffocating feeling built in Ariel's stomach.  _What if I'm just one of his experiments_? She thought. Her heart broke at that depressing thought. But she forced herself to stand up tall and began to march back to Baker Street. She had to know that he loved her, for real, even if he didn't always show it. All she wanted was that one shred of proof that the great Sherlock Holmes found her special enough to give his heart to.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlock heard the door of 221b fly open and slam shut, he heard the rapid pounding of footsteps running up the stairs and then... silence. A few seconds past and just before he was about to call John to answer the door, Ariel peeked through the door of the flat.

"Ariel, glad to see you back." Sherlock commented coolly for his spot in his armchair. Ariel inched forward, mask up, hiding how desperate she was right now. She nodded to him as she stood in front of Sherlock. She took a deep breath.

"Sherlock, I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?" She asked, the serious tone in her voice causing Sherlock to feel alarmed. He nodded his consent.

"Am I an experiment in human emotions? Or do you actually love me?" Ariel asked pointedly, looking Sherlock dead in the eyes. Now Sherlock was panicking. Is this what John was trying to warn him about? He swallowed hard.

"Ariel, I..." Sherlock began, but Ariel cut him off. She shook her head.

"I need to know. I need to hear you say it." She begged, moving into his personal space. Sherlock noted the tears hiding in her eyes.

"Ariel, you are not an experiment." Sherlock said softly, placing a light hand on her face.


	43. Considering You

**Chapter XXXXIII**

"Lestrade, I need access to the mothers desk again." Sherlocks voice asked as he talked to the detective inspector on his mobile. There was a long pause before...

"But I NEED to get in there! Lestrade, we need to figure out how the woman was abducted without anyone noticing and the only way to do that is to go back to where she was abducted from!" Sherlock shouted at his mobile. The phone was quickly swiped out of his hands by John, who put the mobile to his ear.

"I'm sorry Greg. Is there anyway you can get us into her office again?" John asked the DI politely, shooting a death glare at Sherlock who was now pouting. Ariel was sitting on the sofa, trying desperately not to giggle at the two men having a silent argument.

"Thanks Greg. We'll be there in an hour." John spoke into the phone. He hung up and tossed it back to Sherlock, who caught it effortlessly.

"Lestrade said we can get in for a few minutes." John explaining, looking at Sherlock expectantly. When he didn't reply, John let out a frustrated sigh.

"You're welcome, you git." John spat out at Sherlocks silence. The detective looked at John quizzically, trying to figure out what he had done wrong this time. He glanced over at Ariel, who silently mouthed " _thank you_ ". Sherlock turned back to John.

"Thank you, John." Sherlock said begrudgingly. John turned to face Sherlock, surprised at his words. With a small silent exchange, the two men moved to gather their things before heading out. Ariel pulled Sherlock aside quietly, as not to alert John to their discussion.

"Thank you." She whispered and pressed a gentle kiss to his check.

"For what?" Sherlock asked coolly, though internally he felt his mind jumble at the kiss.

"For showing John you appreciate him." Ariel replied, a smile on her face. She ducked into the kitchen, leaving Sherlock dumbfounded. He raised his hand to his cheek and gently touched the place where she had kissed him. A small smirk crept over his face as he reached for his coat.

"Ready?" Sherlock asked, wrapping on his blue scarf. Ariel flashed him a smile.

"Always." She answered. And with that, the three made their way out of the flat.

**XXXXXXXX**

"Look, Sherlock. We've been here for almost an hour and we haven't found anything. Can we just go home already?" John complained. The doctor had not eaten since lunch, which had been hours ago seeing as how it was already dark outside.

"Stop complaining about your stomach and let me think." Sherlock snapped, shuffling through the files on the kidnapped woman's desk for the third time. At that moment, Ariel came walking back to the woman's desk.

"I'm not sure what you were expecting me to find, but short of the normal, there was nothing of interest in the women's loo." Ariel said as she approached the two men. Sherlock huffed in frustration as he sat back in the chair. His hands came to rest in their normal place, clasped in front of his face.

"Sherlock, let's go. There's obviously nothing here." John said tiredly. Sleep and hungry were making him irritable.

"No! There has got to be something here, John, and I'm not leaving until I find it!" Sherlock shouted at him. John looked like he was ready to shout back when Ariel stepped in.

"Calm down, both of you. John, if your hungry or tired, feel free to go. I'll stay here with Sherlock." Ariel said gently, giving John a loving smile. John let out a large sigh.

"Alright. I'm headed back to the flat. Should I get takeaway for all of us?" He asked, looking at Ariel. She gently shook her head.

"No. Just get yourself some food, Doctor Watson, and go to bed." She said with a good natured chuckle. John joined her briefly while Sherlock rolled his eyes behind their backs.

"Will do. Call if anything interesting happens, yeah?" He asked as he walked towards the exit. Ariel giggled.

"Of course. Goodnight, John." She called after him. When she heard the door at the end of the hallway close, she turned to Sherlock. He studied her for a second.

"What did I do this time?" He asked with a huff. Ariel just shook her head, a fond smile on her face.

"Aside from the yelling, nothing. John is just irritable because he's hungry and still jet lagged. Although, in the future, try not to yell at him when he's grumpy. If I wouldn't have been here, he might have socked you one." Ariel said as she draped herself over the high backed chair, her arms looping around Sherlocks neck.

She gave Sherlock a bright smile. Her face was so close, only inches away. Sherlock felt her breath ghost over his face. He wasn't sure what moved him to do it, but he reached out and stroked one of her cheeks tentatively. He felt her nuzzle into the touch, which made him smile. And all of a sudden, a light came on in his mind.

"Oh!" Sherlock exclaimed suddenly, dropping his hand from Ariel's face. He pushed himself out of the chair and started to pace the room.

"What?" Ariel asked, confused by the suddenly excited man.

"Do you remember Stiller's file? The one Lestrade sent?" Sherlock asked. Ariel shook her head and pulled out her mobile, looking for the file.

"Anywhere in there, does it mention him having a wife, girlfriend, partner, anything?" Sherlock asked, the titles firing off his tongue rapidly.

"Hang on a second, please." Ariel said, a bit frustrated with her mobile. After a second of scrolling, she came across the requested information.

"It says here that before being imprisoned, he had a long time girlfriend named Cathy McFair. At that time she worked at..." Ariel read, trailing off to look at Sherlock with wide eyes.

"Here, right?" He asked happily. Ariel nodded.

"She still works here. She's a security guard. Knows the ins and outs and blind spots of every camera in this whole place. It would be so easy for her to help her boyfriend slip in and out." Sherlock deduced. He was feeling rather pleased with himself.

"But why?" Ariel asked, breaking Sherlock out of his trance. He turned and blinked.

"Does it matter? We've got a suspect and possible a lead to where the two are being held." Sherlocks said plainly. He didn't particularly care for motive at the moment, he cared about playing the game. He noticed a shimmer of disappointment in Ariel's eyes, but she just shook her head.

"Alright then. Are we done here? Shall I call Lestrade?" She asked, a tired tint to her voice. Sherlock noticed for the first time just how tired she looked.  _Nightmares_. He thought.  _About what though?_  He stored the thought for later consideration.

"Yes, I'm finished here. Would you call Lestrade?" Sherlocks said, heading towards the exit. Ariel smiled as she trailed behind him, calling the detective inspector to inform him of their discovery. She ended the call as the taxi Sherlock had hailed pulled up to the curb. They quickly hoped in and were headed toward Baker Street.

"Ariel, are you hungry?" Sherlock asked in the silence. Ariel picked her head up from its spot on Sherlocks shoulder.

"Actually, yeah, I am. But I can eat at home. No need to do a special trip for me." She replied, smiling at him. Sherlock just shook his head, not saying anything. Ariel figured that was the end of it; that they would just go to the flat without another word. But she was wrong.

They were driving down a particularly long stretch of shops when Sherlock asked the driver to stop. He quickly hopped out, telling to driver to wait a minute. He disappeared into one of the shops, only to emerge a few minutes later with a large cardboard box. Awkwardly, he got back in the cab and instructed the driver to continue to Baker Street. Once they got going again, Sherlock handed the box to Ariel.

"Here. Eat." He instructed, sliding the box into her hands. Ariel opened it and was assaulted by warm smells of chicken, cheese, tomatoes, spices, bread and other delightful things. Sherlock had just dashed out to buy her a pizza.

"Thank you Sherlock." She said, brain still slow as she tried to process this. It was an unusual thing, to say the least.

"Hardly a problem. If you need to do something as boring as eating to be of assistance to me, then I guess you had better eat." He remarked, gazing out the window. Ariel took one of the slices in her hand, just as hungry as John had been, and happily ate it as she watched the world outside pass by.

**XXXXXXX**

As soon as the got back, Sherlock began lounging in his chair, dressing gown hanging from his shoulders and fiddling with his violin. Ariel made herself some tea, and John had retired for the evening to his room. Ariel curled up in Johns armchair, completely happy with the days events.

She had found a new flat, helped in an investigation, proved an arrogant policewoman wrong and shared pizza with Sherlock. Yes, in fact, the consulting detective had eaten some pizza, claiming that he "must try it, to make sure it's safe". He then proceeded to eat four more slices, but Ariel didn't care. Obviously it was something he liked and he was sharing it with her.

"What now?" Ariel asked as she sat watching Sherlock, the days events replaying through her mind.

"Well, now we wait. Wait for him to make the next move. Can't do much else." Sherlock said, shrugging his shoulders. Ariel hummed in acknowledgement, staring at her tea.

"What do you think about me moving downstairs?" She asked quietly, not making eye contact. Sherlock studied her for a second. He noted her position, defensive, scared. Why though? Did she think he would hurt her?

"Honestly, I think it will be of great benefit to have you so close at hand." Sherlock stated cautiously. There was a part of him that wanted to tell her how happy she was that she would be so close, but as always, his rational side prevented him from saying it. Ariel looked up at him, a small smile on her full lips.

"It will be nice to be near you too." She said quietly. There was a moment where Sherlock wondered if she had read his mind. But he smiled warmly at her and tucked the violin under his chin.

He began to quietly play her piece, the song he had written just for her. The sweet notes drifted through the flat, lightly caressing Ariel's ears as she closed her eyes and listened. She imagined hearing Sherlock pour his heart out to her in those beautiful notes, hearing him confess every emotion she knew he felt deep down inside.

Sherlock never ended the piece, but instead morphed it into another piece. This one was more fragile, as if Sherlock could break it in two just with the air. The piece came to a quick crescendo before Sherlock lowered his bow, bowing his head as he placed the violin in its velvet-lined case. There was silence in the flat.

"Are you ok Sherlock?" Ariel asked quietly. Her voice sounded small against the large room. Sherlock slowly raised his head and looked her in the eyes.

"I'm fine. But you should get some rest." He said in his low, rumbling voice as he motioned towards his bedroom. Ariel nodded, got up and closed the gap between them.

"Goodnight, Sherlock." She whispered before she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and retreated. Sherlock sat in his chair, mouth agape as he tried to process his emotions.

"Goodnight. Ariel." He whispered to himself in the quietly living room of 221b.


	44. Tick Tock Goes the Clock

**Chapter XXXXIV**

If there was one thing Ariel noticed about Sherlock it was how he loved to experiment, even if when his test subject weren't exactly willing participants. It had been another rather long night for Ariel, filled with nightmares and restless sleep. So when she was rudely awoken by the sound of a machine running outside her bedroom door, she was not happy.

Mumbling curses and death threats to whoever it was, she stumbled out of bed and threw open the door. She couldn't say what she was expecting, but this was definitely not it. No, it wasn't even on the top one hundred things she had expected to find. Outside the bedroom door, on the far side of the kitchen, stood Sherlock Holmes, holding a running chainsaw and bent over a watermelon, covered head to toe in purple goo.

Ariel stood there with her mouth wide open, staring at the ridiculous man in front of her. There were so many thoughts running through her head that she couldn't even form a complete sentence. All she could do was laugh, and laugh she did.

Sherlock seemed to notice her for the first time as she began her chorus if laughter. He gave her a lope sided, sparkly-eyed grin, which only made Ariel laugh more. By the time she had finally calmed down, she was propped against the door frame, half sitting/half laying on the floor.

The chainsaw had been shut off at some point, because now Sherlock was leaning over her, chuckling along with her. He stretched out his hand to help her up, which she gladly took.

"What's all this about?" Ariel asked smiling as she gestured at Sherlocks gooey appearance. The man in question shrugged.

"For a case. Serial killer used a chainsaw to cut open his victims skulls." Sherlock said nonchalantly. Ariel was still positively beaming at him, even with that rather gruesome statement.

"But what about the goo?" She asked, shoving him playfully with a giggle.

"Another experiment. It backfired. Or work according to plan, depending on how you look at it." He chuckled out with her. The two of them stood their, giggling like school children, when John entered.

"What the hell is going on?!" He yelled, positively fuming. Unfortunately, his anger only seemed to fuel their giggling. Ariel burst out with a fresh round of laughter.

"I was just experimenting, John. No need to yell." Sherlock said cheerily. He put a gooey arm around the giggling Ariel and gave John a wide smile. That seemed to soften the doctor.

"Alright. But clean this place up. I want to make breakfast, but I don't want to get poisoned doing it." He said sternly before turning and trotting back up the stairs. As soon as he was gone, Ariel burst out laughing again. Sherlock chuckled with her for a minute until she calmed down.

"Alright. Whew, ok. Right. You clean up this mess then shower, I'll do the laundry." Ariel said, setting out to start the cleaning of the kitchen.

"Fine." Sherlock consented, moving to help her.

**XXXXXXXX**

After breakfast, which John so kindly made, the three were off to Scotland Yard. Sherlock refused to tell them why, but then again, John and Ariel didn't really need a reason. Sherlock strode into Detective Inspector Lestrades office, John and Ariel in tow.

"Ah, morning Lestrade. You wanted to see me?" Sherlock said his usual cold tone. Lestrade looked up from his pile of paperwork.

"Yeah. This came in for you." He said, handing Sherlock a small package. His name was delicately written on the brown paper in black ink. Sherlock examined it carefully, before producing a pocketknife and cutting open the envelope. He tilted it, forcing it's contents to fall into his waiting hand.

What came out of the small, brown paper package surprised him. It was a small silver pocket watch. It was old, judging by the small scratches in the silver and the yellowing face. The hands seemed to have stopped long ago, but Sherlock did not neglect to notice the time they showed.  _3:47_.

Sherlock flipped it over in his hand, feeling the weight of it, the cool metal in his skin. On the back was an engraving that read:  _To My Dearest Beatrice, With Love_. Sherlocks brow furrowed as he tried to connect the clues. When nothing revealed itself, Sherlock handed the pocket watch to John and returned to searching the package. Inside, he found a note.

 _Tick tock goes the clock_  
She holds her captives sway  
Tick tock goes the clock  
'Til the doctor goes away

_Your friend, The Puzzler_

Sherlock read and re-read the note, trying to figure out its meaning. Clearly, the doctor referred to John. "She" could be one of two things - Ariel or whomever the watch was inscribed to, though most likely Ariel. But this still left many unanswered questions.

"It's him, isn't it?" Ariel asked quietly, breaking the silence in the room. Sherlock glanced up from the note to gaze at her.

"Yes. It's the puzzler." He replied. He then returned to his study of the note. He was interrupted, however, by a loud gasp from Ariel. His head shot up to check if she was alright.

She stood along the far wall, the pocket watch lying in her hand. She was a very pale colour and her mouth was wide open, gasping for air, it would seem

"What is it?" John asked worriedly, rushing to her side. It took a second, but after a scared look around the room with wide eyes, Ariel finally regained her voice.

"Beatrice," she began, swallowing hard. "Was my mothers name. My father bought her a pocket watch just like this one for their first anniversary. It disappeared shortly after her death." Ariel was almost shaking with fear, though she was doing well at hiding it from everyone but Sherlock.

"The time the watch is stopped at? That was her time of death." She said. Utter silence filled the room. It was as if a dark cloud hung over everyone as they tried to process this new information. Sherlock was the first to speak.

"Well, that's one half of the mystery solved." He said, in a tone that was way to chipper for the mood of the room. John shot him a look that said " _timing_ ". Sherlock just shrugged.

"And what is the other half?" Lestrade asked, adopting his serious police detective voice.

"This." Sherlock said, waving the note that was in his hand. John, Ariel and Lestrade all reached out to take the note from Sherlock, but Ariel snatched it out of his hand first. She quickly read it, her brows furrowing when she didn't understand it's meaning. She looked up at Sherlock, wordlessly asking if he had the answer. John gently eased the note from Ariel's grasp to read it for himself.

"'She holds her captives sway'? What the bloody hell's that supposed to mean?" John asked, angrily.

"You seemed to have skipped over the first part of the poem, but, yes, I agree this verse may be if more importance." Sherlock said, his cool tone doing absolutely nothing to calm his friends. They all waited in silence for Sherlock to speak again.

"The first and third verses obviously denote the passing of time, however I'm at a bit of a loss as to what the second verse means." Sherlock explained, his brow creasing in frustration as he had to admit he didn't know something.

"What about the fourth verse, then? ' 'Til the doctor goes away'?" John asked.

"Well, if my assumptions are correct, the 'doctor' refers to you, John." Sherlock stated. John seemed taken aback at this possibility. It wasn't a thought he was particularly fond of.

"Ok, so who is 'she', then? If the 'doctor' is John?" Lestrade asked, unhappy at where this all seemed to be heading. Sherlocks eyes drifted over to Ariel, and slowly, the other two men followed his gaze.

"Me?" Ariel asked in pure disbelief.

"There are numerous possibilities, but the most likely in this case is you." Sherlock said. Ariel noted just a hint of something like pain in his voice.  
"However," he continued. "To come to the correct conclusion, I need more information." Ariel squirmed a bit under his powerful gaze before she cleared her throat and began.

"My mom died in the hospital shorty after a car accident. She died at 3:47pm on Wednesday, October 11, 2006. She was not even sixty. I was there, when she passed. The name on her birth certificate was Beatrice Rose Walsh, until she married my dad.

My parents met in France, while both on vacation. My mom loved anything antique; watches, dresses, furniture, dishes, bottles, pictures, anything. So for their first wedding anniversary, Da bought her a silver pocket watch, engraved with her name, as a token of his love." Ariel told her little story, looking hatefully at the watch that was sitting on the desks as she spoke in a forced emotionless tone. The room was yet again silent, and after a moment Ariel continued.

"She loved that thing. She always kept it close. After she died, I ask my Da if I could keep it, and he told me I could. But when we went to look for it, it was gone. Even when we packed my dad up and moved him, we couldn't find it. I always assumed mom had it in her that day, or had it buried with her." Ariel looked like she was going to cry, but John put a comforting hand on her shoulder. A flash of jealous arose in Sherlock;  _he should be the one comforting her!_

"Well, do you have enough to make a deduction yet?" John asked, snapping Sherlock back to the present.

"Shut up, I'm thinking." Sherlock retorted, and actually began to mull over the new information.

"Well, obviously the time on the watch is meant to be our deadline before he strikes. That gives us... just a little less then six hours. There are two possibilities for when the time is up. One, he kills the women. Two he kidnaps John. And seeing as how this man has yet to kill anyone, my bet is on the later." Sherlock rattled off. John looked scared at the thought that he was next. But as the brave solider he was, squared his shoulders and moved on.

"Now, assuming this isn't your mothers watch and is in fact a duplicate, why go through all that trouble? There must be a clue in the engraving." Sherlock spoke his thoughts aloud before grabbing the small silver pocket watch off the table.

He flipped it over in his hand, desperately trying to find the connections between the engraving and the case. And then, it hit him. With a fresh light in his eyes and a deep chuckle, he started a new search on his mobile phone. After a few seconds of scrolling, he found it.

"What is it Sherlock?" The DI asked. Sherlock flipped his mobile around, briefly showing it to the curious eyes in the room.

"There is a street in London, near Paterson park, Beatrice road. It's a housing district, lots of small homes, some of which are for sale. But do you want to take a guess at the number of the only vacant house?" Sherlock said, positively beaming. Ariel's eyes widened as she made the connection.

"347." She breathed out. She looked to Sherlock for conformation. He gave a brief nod.

"Hang on a second, then why the poem?" Lestrade asked, confused.

"To throw us off the obvious trail." Sherlock groaned out, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Come on, let's catch the kidnapper!" He shouted as he strode out of the room.


	45. House of Cards

**Chapter XXXXV**

They arrived at 347 Beatrice Road, pulling up to the large, abandoned looking house.  
"Are you sure about this Sherlock?" Lestrade asked, turning off the engine of his police cruiser. Sherlock glared at the DI.

"Of course I'm sure." Sherlock spat out, climbing out of the car. Lestrade, John and Ariel were quick to follow.

Lestrade signalled his men to stay behind and the four of them advanced towards the vacant house. They walked up, Lestrade hands clutching his gun and Johns hand hovering over the concealed one in his back pocket. Lestrade slowly opened the front door and Ariel could feel her heart pounding in her ears.

Lestrade nodded his head, motioning for them to follow him inside. John and Ariel nodded in affirmation, while Sherlock just rolled his eyes. They pushed their way inside, Lestrade and John acting like a proper cop and solider with Sherlock following rolling his eyes at their stupid act and being his normal, arrogant self. The two with weapons checked the rooms on either side of the hallway as the advanced inside the empty house.

Tattered curtains hung over dirty windows, the little remnants of furniture that were left inside were covered in sheets. Dust and dirt covered the wooden floors and dampness clung in the air. As they walked through the house, Ariel looked around, observing the structure of the building.

Her gaze was brought downwards by a gleam of metal from the floor at the edge of one of the rooms. She bent down to get a closer look. It was a piece of metal chain, about the size for a bracelet. Ariel reached out to grab it when she noticed something else. Footprints. Four sets, all headed in the same direction. They were simply small disturbances in the dust, but she noticed them.

"Sherlock." She whispered, getting the consulting detectives attention. She gestured to the floor and he strode over, pulling out his magnifying glass and quickly looking over the sets of what Ariel thought were footprints.

"Lestrade." Sherlock growled in a low voice. The DI and John looked up and noticed what Sherlock and Ariel were looking at and understood. The four set off again, this time following the footprints.

They lead down a set of stairs to a dark, dank basement, completely devoid of natural light. There seemed to be three rooms, the deceive inspector, consulting detective and army doctor each went to a door, as quietly as the could. Just as they were about to break down the doors, they heard a stifled cry.

It's high pitch suggested female, Sherlock deduced, but it was to close to be one of the kidnapped women. He turned to look at Ariel to find to his horror that she was the one who had cried out. A mans hand was wrapped around her head, covering her mouth.

Sherlock wouldn't have been to worried about that, given that he knew Ariel had extensive self defence training. But it was the gun held to her head that made his heart stop. She was looking right at Sherlock, eyes blown wide with fear. Lestrade and John were staring at her too, guns raised at her assailant, but he was using her as a shield.

"Well, well, well. We meet again, Mr. Holmes." The man said from behind her.

"The Puzzler. It would seem we have." Sherlock said, fighting to keep his voice as cold and cutting as possible.

"It would seem my predecessor was right. You have let her play you like a violin." The Puzzler said menacingly. Sherlocks only response was to straighten his posture.

"You've even gone so far as to fall in love with her. He knew you would." The Puzzler purred. Lestrade shot Sherlock a questioning glance.

"Do you really think now is the appropriate time to talk about my personal life, detective inspector?" Sherlock barked, annoyed by the completely disbelieving look he was getting from Lestrade. The DI just shook his head, refocusing on the Puzzler.

"It's a shame you did, though. Makes it that much easier to make you crumble." The Puzzler expressed, punctuating his final words by pressing the gun harder to Ariel's head. Lestrade and John both responded by preparing to fire, their bullets ready to fire on a hair.

"Why though? What do you want from me?" Sherlock asked coolly. He did not like playing with lives, but it would seem he'd have to this time.

"Jim Moriarty wasn't the only one who enjoyed a good game. No, there's lots of us that like playing." The Puzzler said, his lips curling into a wicked grin.

"But why me?" Sherlock asked.

"Because, you're the one who played. We sent the first puzzle to her," another jab with the barrel of the gun, "we thought she would be brilliant enough to play. But she ran to you, and you played the game with us, me and my predecessor." The Puzzler explained.

"Alright, but what do you want then?" Sherlock asked carefully.

"Me? I want the thrill of the chase, the feeling of having been one step ahead, the pure rush of it all. You are just the opponent." The Puzzler said with a shrug.

"Then why all this about "I love her"? Why does that matter in our game?" Sherlock asked, taking a small step closer.

"Why does she matter? Don't you see, Mr. Holmes? She's the reason your playing. Of course she matters! I bet you don't even know all of her secrets." The Puzzler claimed with a chuckle.

Sherlock looked Ariel over. Once again, he couldn't tell everything about her like he normally could anyone. But that didn't mean she was hiding anything. Or did it? Sherlock loved her puzzle, she was a mystery to unravel. But could there be something dangerous hiding in there?

"Tick tock, Mr. Holmes." The Puzzler said with an evil grin.

"Tick tock goes the clock 'til the doctor goes away." He sang. As he did, another person stepped into the room, a gun aimed at the back of Johns head. john blew a heavy breath from his nose, knowing what was now behind him. Lestrade turned, aiming his gun at Johns assailant.

"I'm curious, which would you choose? Your lover or your friend?" The Puzzler asked.

"What about the two women? What did you do with them?" Sherlock asked, trying hard to ignore the panic rising in his stomach and keep a level tone.

"Safely stored in that room. Don't worry, the cop can have them. They do whine a lot." The Puzzler said.

"Why do you know so much about Ariel? It's not as if she is famous." Sherlock asked. It was a questioned that had bugged him, why the duplicate watch bothered him. Why would a criminal know so much about Ariel?

"She is famous, in some circles. But you are probably more interested in why we even cared to pick her, yes? I'll tell you. My predecessor was right, she's not as innocent as you might think." The Puzzler began, but he was cut of by a swift kick between the legs from Ariel, just as Lestrade pulled the trigger on his gun at Johns assailant.

The room was a commotions of noise and movement as Ariel fought the Puzzler, Sherlock moved to help her, and John and Lestrade took care of the other assailant, whom Lestrade had missed. There was a few minutes of ruff and tumble before the Puzzler and the assailant found their way to the door and bolted.

"Lestrade, find the women." Sherlock ordered before dashing after the fleeing criminals. Lestrade obeyed, heading to search the three rooms. John and Ariel, however, where off chasing after Sherlock. The criminals dashed out the back door and across the backyard, Sherlock hot on their trail and John and Ariel close behind.

They jumped over fences, weaved through bushes, dashed around corners and climbed over bins. And Sherlock, John and Ariel were right behind them. Soon they hit a more populated area, filled with tall buildings closely packed together.

The criminal duo were excellent at dodging and weaving through parked cars and alleyways. Sherlock, with his long legs and lean physique, was able to keep up and even gain on them. But John and Ariel seemed to trail behind at some parts.

Eventually though, Sherlock got the drop on them. He cornered them, and without any restraint, took them down. Sherlock had knocked them both unconscious by the time John and Ariel caught up.

John instinctively checked their pulses, making sure they were actually unconscious, after which he phoned Lestrade and gave him their location. Ten minutes later, the DI arrived with his police force.

"Ah, Lestrade, good to see you've finally decided to show up." Sherlock huffed at him. Lestrade chose to ignore him.

"How did they become unconscious?" Lestrade asked, turning to John. John just shrugged.

"I honestly don't know." John answered, looking to Sherlock. The DI also turned to stare at the consulting detective.

"Does it matter? We caught them." Sherlock huffed again. Lestrade knew better then to press his questions. Instead, he moved topics.

"Right, well, that's another case solved. Would you three mind coming in and doing the paperwork?" Lestrade asked hopefully. There was a unanimous groan from the three being asked.

"Come on. It's not that bad." Lestrade tried.

"I would rather listen to John talk about his girlfriend then do your paperwork." Sherlock moaned. John rolled his eyes. Ariel went to his side, silently asking him to stop.

"It needs to be done, so you'll have to do it sooner or later." Lestrade reminded them. John and Ariel sighed, submitting to their fate. Sherlock, however, would not go withouth making absolutely sure the detective inspector knew just how much he loathed his paperwork.

"I would rather not experiment for the rest of my life." He declared, getting into the cruiser.

"This is utterly stupid." He mumbled as they drove along.

"You can't make me." Sherlock said as they all climbed out of the police cruiser at Scotland Yard.

"Come on Sherlock. Stop being such a baby and do the bloody paperwork." John called to him. Sherlock cursed John under his breath and Ariel let out a small giggle.

"Come on. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home." She said with a cheery smile as she tug in Sherlocks hand, dragging him towards the revolving front door of the yard.

**XXXXXXXX**

Two hours later, they were elbows deep in paperwork, with no end in sight. Sherlock let out another groan, this one particularly louder.

"I'm going to die here because of this stupid paperwork. It's just so... tedious." The complete disgust in his voice made Ariel giggle. John sighed again from somewhere on the other side of a stack of papers.

"Why don't you stop complaining and do your work?" He snapped. Sherlock just let out another earth shaking groan. Ariel grabbed his hand, causing him to look up from his sulking. She smiled at him. His hair was a dishevelled mess of tangled chocolate curls.

"Come on. Let's get you some coffee." She said, tugging him into a standing position. She walked out if the cramped office, Sherlock in tow. They arrived at the small kitchen and Ariel pour two cups of coffee, making Sherlocks just the way he liked it.

She leaned against the counter for a moment before setting her cup down, flashing Sherlock a huge grins and placing a loving kiss on his lips. She pulled away a second later.

"I love you." She whispered, before grabbing his hand and her coffee and heading back.


	46. Trying to Mend a Nightmare

**Chapter XXXXVI**

Ariel sat back on the sofa, her hands curling around a much needed cup of tea. She reflected on the afternoons events. Things had not gone as planned.  _But when do they ever with Sherlock?_ She thought to herself with a smile.

They had accompanied the police to 347 Beatrice road to help apprehend the kidnapper and rescue the two women. But with a small slip up, they ended up having to chase the kidnapper and his accomplice halfway across London. In the end though, they caught them and turned them into the police.

Because it was so early in the day, Lestrade insisted they come down to the yard and give their statements and help fill out the paperwork. After much arguing and Lestrade threatening to place Sherlock in jail for the night, the three escorted the detective inspector back to the yard.

Statements given, paperwork filled out and way to much horrible coffee drunk later, they had finally returned to Baker Street. It was early evening, the sun just having just dipped below the horizon a few minutes ago.

Mrs. Hudson brought up a roasted chicken for them, much to John and Ariel's delight. Neither one of them felt like cooking. Sherlock just scrunched his nose up at it and went back to playing his violin, a rambunctious, happy sounding tune.

John sat down beside Ariel, holding out a plate of biscuits for her as he flicked on the telly. She happily took one and watched the screen. Sherlock let out a dramatic sigh at the sound of a particularly annoying sitcom jingle, and he sulked off to his room, slamming the door behind him. Ariel and John looked at each other and began laughing softly.

"Dramatic git." John chuckled out. Ariel nodded, a wide smile on her face. They feel back into relative silence as the continued watching the show. John broke it as the show came to an end and he shut it off. He turned to face Ariel, who in response did likewise.

"Ariel, I noticed when you talked about your mother... Just how pained you are about it. Do you... Do you want to talk about it?" John offered. Ariel bit her lip, considering the offer.  _Why not?_  She thought taking a deep breath.

"Well, her and I were close. It just hurts, loosing someone that means that much to you. And to see someone else make fun of her? To see them mock me for her? It hurts me. But what scares me most is how he found out that much about me and my family, and he used it against me." Ariel confessed, her heart aching again as she reopened old wounds. John put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's ok. He's behind bars, for good this time." John reassured her. Ariel pulled away.

"It's not just him, John." She mumbled out, just barely above a whisper. John could tell there was something she wasn't saying, but he decided to let it go. He put his hand on her shoulder, looking at her profile.

"It's all fine." He reassured her again. She let out a sigh and was quiet for a moment before she sat up with a tired smile on her face.

"Thank you. Would you like some tea?" She asked. John could see she had slipped her mask back on, refusing to show how she really felt. John just gave her a small smile in return.

"Tea would be lovely." He responded. Ariel swiftly got up and went to the kitchen, leaving John alone with his thoughts. He couldn't help replaying parts of their recent conversation, and memories of old ones floated through his mind.

" _But the girl in question is not as innocent as you might think, Mr. Holmes. No, she is not innocent at all." "She is an actress, capable of twisting your emotions and reasoning to bow to her whims. Even you, Mr. Holmes, can not escape her tricks._ " Those were a few of the words the Puzzler had said to Sherlock on their one face to face confrontation.

What if he was right? How what really was there to Ariel? And was it dangerous? These are the thoughts that John pondered as he waited for Ariel to make him tea. A few moments later, she walked carefully into the room caring to steaming mugs.

She gingerly handed one to the previous solider with a smile before she took her place beside him. John knew that before Sherlock, he had trust issues, but after Sherlock he slipped back into his old ways, he could tell if a person could be trusted or not. His gut would tell him. And right now, his gut told him that Ariel was more friend than foe. But he wanted to be sure.

"Ariel, I know it hurts but, could you be honest with me? What did you do that would make the puzzler fixate on you?" John asked, bravely biting back his nervousness. Ariel didn't look him in the eye, her gaze firmly placed on the mug in her hands.

"John, honestly, I don't know. Maybe I did something he took offence to, but I had never met the man before. Trust me, either of them. John, I know you're wondering if you can trust me and I can't make that decision for you, but aside from a few mistakes I made in my past, I am your friend. I always will be here for you. And Sherlock." Ariel answered, staring at John for the last sentence. He searched her face, looking for any indication she was lying.

"I believe you. But I had to be sure." John admitted quietly. Ariel gave him a small but happy smile.

"Thank you." She replied before sipping her tea. There was an awkward moment of silence before John asked if he should switch the telly on again. Ariel nodded and soon they were relaxing on the couch watching a movie. By the time it was over, John was so tired he could barely make it up the stairs.

Ariel said her good nights and went to retire to Sherlocks room. Only when she was just about to sit down on the edge of the bed did she notice the large lump under the covers which was breathing heavily.

 _Shoot, Sherlocks in here. Oh well, I'll sleep on the couch._  Ariel thought to herself, moving to get off the bed. She didn't move far though, because long fingers wrapped around her hand, pulling her back towards the bed.

"Stay." Sherlock mumbled, his voice heavy from sleep. He made no move to leave though.

"But your here." Ariel whispered. She couldn't deny the fact that she would love to just curl up beside Sherlock right now, feel him breathing next to her, but she didn't think he would be to fond of the idea. His reply, however, contradicted that thought.

"So? Stay." Sherlock said again, patting the space beside him. "Please?" He added, as an after thought of his sleep addled brain. Ariel smiled brightly, even though it could only be felt by her. The room was to dark to see anything properly.

"Alright. Just let me get my nightshirt on." She answered. Sherlock released her hand and Ariel quickly slipped into her sleeping attire. Sherlock shuffled over as Ariel nudged him, climbing under the warm covers.

Ariel settled down facing away from Sherlock, trying not to disturb him. But it seemed that Sherlock had other plans.

As soon as Ariel was settled, Sherlock shuffled closer, his arms wrapping around her middle and his face buried in her back. At first, Ariel wasn't sure what to do. But eventually, she relaxed, letting sleep overtake her and feeling Sherlocks warm breath ghost over her back.

**XXXXXXX**

Sherlock awoke when Ariel rolled over and flung a hand in his face. At first, he was incredible annoyed. He didn't sleep much, why was she making the sleep he did get difficult?

Then he notice how Ariel was thrashing, hands flying everywhere, face contorted in pain and fear, and perspiration gathering on her brow. Sherlock quickly deduced she was having a nightmare.

Now fully awake, Sherlock tried to decide on the best course of action. Waking her would cease the nightmare, but disturb her rest. Or he could try and soothe the nightmare away.

He settled on trying the latter first. He tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder, stroking it soothingly like he had seen John do. Then he whispered in her ear, words trying to calm her down.

"Relax, it's just a dream. You are safe, Ariel. I promise." He whispered. She seemed to stop thrashing so much, but her face was still contorted. All of a sudden, she shot up, sitting straight up in bed with wide eyes and a look of pure panic on her face.

She was breathing heavily, as if she had just been running. After a second, she seemed to realize where she was and her stiff back relaxed, her head colliding with her hands.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock tentatively asked.

"I'm fine." Ariel replied curtly, still breathing heavier then normal. Sherlock looked her over worriedly.

"You had a nightmare." Sherlock observed, but his tone was almost childlike. He put his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it soothingly again. Ariel sighed, almost happy for the contact.

"Yes. I did." She replied softly, lifting her head out of her hands. There was silence for a moment.

"Would you tell me what it was about?" Sherlock asked. This surprised Ariel. Not because he didn't know, but because he cared enough to ask.

If he did know, he was granting her the opportunity to express herself. If he really didn't know, he want to. He wanted to understand the reason for her upset and that touched her.

If her mind would have been working right, maybe she would have savoured that moment a bit. If her mind were right, she definitely knew she wouldn't have responded like she did.

"Why would it matter to you?" She bit out. Sherlock noted how pained her voice sounded, how it she seemed on the verge of tears.

"Because, despite the irrationality of it, I have come to care about you and seeing you in such a state as this deeply disturbs me." Sherlock replied, his normal cool and distant tone returning. Ariel physically cringed at that change.

With a deep breath, she lay back down and began to recount her nightmare into the dark, not really talking to Sherlock as much as she was talking to the ceiling.

"It was one of my normal dreams. I was walking down the street, just enjoying myself. But the next thing I knew, I was tied up in a dark, dank room. In walked the Puzzler, and Stiller, and Moran. Each of them held a gun to the head of someone. There was my dad, and John, and... you.

You looked the worse of the three, blood running down your face, bruises covering every visible piece of skin. You... Sherlock, you looked at me, in my dream, with a face that pleaded for me to stop. I struggled against the ropes, trying to get free, to rescue you, but the harder I fought, the tighter they got.

And when I finally couldn't move anymore, the three captors pulled their triggers. I...I woke up then, but not before I saw your blank face, with a bullet hole in the side of your head." Ariel explained.

She was nearly crying, but she refused to cry in front of Sherlock. Again. There was silence for a long moment and Ariel thought she had finally crossed a line with Sherlock. But then, like the man he was, he surprised her.

"I'm sorry. But it was just a dream. I'm right here, beside you. Alive." Sherlock whispered in her ear. His fingers ran through her hair. It was just the once, but it touched Ariel's heart. He was trying, he was really trying. And he was trying for her.

Ariel rolled on to her side, facing Sherlock and trapping his hand between her head and the pillow. She smiled at him. Even in the dark, Sherlock could see the bright smile she gave him.

After a moment, Ariel snuggled in closer to Sherlock, releasing his hand and settling into the crook of his arm. She nuzzled his side before whispering,  
"You are. Thank you."

Her eyes were closed, taking in the warm smell of Sherlock and feeing his lean chest rise and fall as he breathed. At first, Sherlock froze, not knowing what to do.

Once he felt Ariel still though, he lay on his back, keeping her close at his side. Somehow, deep inside him, he knew this just felt right. Sherlock fell asleep think about just how Ariel made him discover things he never knew he could feel.


	47. For Protection

**Chapter XXXXVII**

John woke up early, a result of a misguided alarm clock and the sound of nothing from below him in the flat. Normally, had his alarm gone off unexpectedly, he would shut it off, roll over and continue sleeping.

However, as he did this, he noticed something peculiar. The flat below him was unusually quiet for six in the morning. This could mean any number of things, but John was not convinced the silence was harmless. So on his dressing gown went and down the stairs he padded.

As he entered the living room he shared with his flatmate, he fully expected to see Sherlock sitting in his chair, thinking. That was the most common cause of silence in 221b. However, John did not see Sherlock in the living room, or the kitchen as he searched the flat further.

The only clue John had was Sherlocks bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. John thought that if anyone might have the answers to Sherlocks disappearance, it would be Ariel. So John approached the door and gave it a slight push, opening it further.

When he was able to, he popped his head in, searching the room for Ariel. The sight he saw, however was something he didn't think he would ever be able to forget.

Ariel lay curled on her side in the crook of Sherlocks arm, her forehead resting on his rising and falling chest. Sherlock was sound asleep on his side, facing Ariel. One arm was curled around her head and the other was draped over her waist.

John smirked, pulled out his phone, and snapped a couple of photos. Then, deciding that Sherlock would probably kill him if he caught him watching them, John snuck back out of the room, closing the door as he went.

John shook his head, smiling giddily to himself as he made himself breakfast and went to work on his laptop. Sherlock Holmes really had fallen in love, and it only took the worlds most confusing girl to get him there.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sherlock woke up lazily, stretching out his curled arm and let out a large yawn. For once, he had actually slept through the night. He took a deep breath and he noticed a smell. Not a bad one, just not one he was used to when he awoke in his bed.

He opened his eyes to find Ariel curled up against his chest, sound asleep. Sherlock smiled to himself as he recalled the events of the night before. He hadn't really planned on Ariel spending the night with him. No, he didn't think she would climb into bed with him. But she had, and without much persuasion.

Sherlock recalled her nightmare, how she had thrashed about in her sleep, looking completely helpless. Sherlock cringed internally as he remembered her cracked voice and pained expression as she recounted the nightmare. But most of all, he remembered her warm body curled up against his, much like she was now. Sherlock felt a shift in her body and he looked down to see her eyes flutter open.

"Morning." She said with speech still slowed by sleep. She smiled up at Sherlock.

"Good morning." Sherlock replied, returning the smile. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, actually. Thanks to you." She said, more awake now. "You?"

"Quite well." Sherlock responded. Something about Ariel always made him smile.

"Good. I don't know how you survive on your normal sleep routine." She giggled, pulling off the covers and sitting up. She bounced out of bed, feeling oddly chipper this morning. Sherlock followed suit, more slowly, reached for his clothing and headed for the bathroom door. He didn't plan to change in front of her.

"Don't. I'm heading for a shower anyways." Ariel said with a little chuckle, bounding over to the door.

"Oh? I smell that bad, do I? That you need to shower after spending the night with me?" Sherlock teased. Ariel giggled.

"No, but my hair hates me this morning, and it needs a good shampooing." Ariel said as she popped into the bathroom. Sherlock chuckled to himself as he started to dress. A second later, he heard the shower begin to run. He finished doing up the buttons of his greyish dress shirts and grabbed his suit jacket before heading into the kitchen.

He checked on his experiments - the eyes in the pickle jar, the hand in plastic wrap in the fridge, and a surprisingly normal sugar crystal test. That's when he noticed the distinct sound of typing. John typing, to be more precise.

Sherlock wandered into the living room to see John, sitting at the small table with a plate of toast and jam, typing away on his laptop. Sherlock suddenly realized what deductions his flatmate would, or could, make about him and Ariel. He would have to set the record straight.

"John." Sherlock started, but he quickly realized he didn't know what he was to say.

"Morning Sherlock." John said, looking up at Sherlock with a cheeky grin.  _Oh great, he already thinks he knows._  Sherlock thought with an audible groan.

"John, why have you got such a cheeky grin on your face? You look like an idiot." Sherlock asked, annoyed.

"What's got you in such a foul mood this morning? Ariel not as good in bed as you thought? Or is it just the after the fact regret?" John brazenly asked, a crooked grin on his face.

"We didn't -" Sherlock started to defend his honour, but John wasn't finished.

"No need to lie, Sherlock, we're mates." John chided, eyes lit playfully as he teased him.

"John we did nothing of the sort of what you are insinuating last night. I simply comforted her. That's. All." Sherlock said definitely.

John eyed Sherlock suspiciously, but he knew Sherlock was telling the truth. John was simply teasing Sherlock, but it made John happy and more then a bit smug to know his friend hadn't lied to him.

"Right. So, are you going to eat now?" John asked, switching the subject, though he was still teasing him. Sherlock saw his moment for revenge.

"Yes." He replied coolly, swiping Johns last piece of toast and striding towards his chair.

"Hey, that was mine!" John yelled at him, though he knew there was no getting his toast back.

"This is your sixth slice. You can share." Sherlock said, flopping down into his chair. John just shook his head at the impossible man and went back to his blog.

**XXXXXXX**

Breakfast over, it was time to move on with the day. John set about unpacking, doing the laundry and what have you. Sherlock spent the morning in his chair, thinking. Ariel tidied up, doing dishes, organizing piles of... well, stuff. When she was finally to bored to do it anymore, she stood up.

"Well, I think it's time I go pack up." She said, moving towards the door. Sherlock snapped out of his trance and reacted quickly. He was off the chair, across the room, and clinging to Ariel's arm with his long fingers before she could blink.

"You can't go." Sherlock said firmly. Ariel locked eyes with him. She saw something in his eyes, something similar to fear. She gave him a comforting smile.

"I'm not going anywhere. But I should probably get my stuff and move into my new flat, hmm?" She said, smiling. Sherlock seemed to realize just what she had meant now, and he suddenly felt foolish for thinking she was actually leaving him. He relaxed, taking back his hand as Ariel reached for her coat.

"Right. Umm, good. Ah... You should take John with you." Sherlock stumbled over his words. Ariel looked at him as she slide her coat over her shoulders.

"I can pack myself, you know." Ariel giggled out.

"No, I know that. I just mean... for protection." Sherlock said. Ariel sighed, shaking her head at the impossible man and gave him a gentle, consenting smile.

"I'll ask him, alright?" She said, stepping forward and placing a small kiss on Sherlocks cheek. "See you later, yeah?" With that, she turned and left the flat. Down the twisted staircase, she popped her head into the shared laundry room. John was putting his clothes in the machine.

"John, would you care to accompany me to my flat?" Ariel asked. John sat back on his heels, looking up at her. He gave her a friendly smile.

"Yeah, just let me put the washing on." John replied, bending back down and finishing with the machine.

"Ta. I'm just going to pop in and see Mrs. Hudson." Ariel said as she backed out of the room.

"Sure." Was Johns muffled reply. Ariel dashed across the hall and knocked on the landlady's door.

"Are you in Mrs. Hudson?" Ariel called out as she creaked open the door. Mrs. Hudson appeared from around the corner.

"I'm here dear. What can I do for you?" She said, approaching the door. Ariel smiled.

"I was wondering if I could have the key to my flat, if that wouldn't be to much trouble." She requested, grinning at the elder woman. Mrs. Hudson nodded and disappeared for a moment.

"Here you are, sweetie. You let me know if there's anything else I can do for you." She said, returning to the door and handing Ariel the key.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. I will." Ariel said as she slipped the key in her pocket and went to get John. He was waiting for her at the front door, jacket on and the faint outline of his gun in his pocket. They made it outside and into a cab with minimal talking.

"So, why are we going to your flat?" John asked after they were settled into the cab.

"I'm going to pack my things and at least prepare to move them to my new flat. Sherlock requested you come with me, for protection." Ariel explained. John chuckled.

"Sherlock said I needed to come? For protection?" He laughed out.

"His words, not mine." Ariel said, a distinct giggle in her voice. Not long after, they arrived at their destination.

Once inside, Ariel immediately began working and so did John, despite Ariel's protests that she could do it herself. After a couple hours of packing, Ariel decided that they need some lunch and ordered takeaway. As they sat on the floor and ate their food, John and Ariel talked.

"I have something to show you." John said, slurping down his noodles. "Here." He said, pulling out his mobile, opening it to the pictures he had taken that morning and passed it to Ariel. She smiled fondly at the photos.

"How did you manage these?" She asked, never taking her eyes off he he photos.

"Just snuck in. Thought it was to cute to pass up and snapped a couple photos." John explained as Ariel handed his phone back.

"Why though?" Ariel asked, returning to her takeaway container.

"Because, unlike you, I don't see the human side of Sherlock all that often." John replied with a slight chuckle.

"You know, he's more human then you might think. He really did try last night, for me." Ariel said with a content sigh. John waited expectantly for her to continue.

"I... I had a nightmare. And he tried to comfort me, John. He really tried. He said calming, comforting words and he even ran his fingers through my hair." Ariel recalled. John couldn't think if a proper response to that, so he just nodded and remained in silence. After a good minute, he broke it.

"I teased him this morning, about bedding you. You should have heard him defend you both." John said, a small chuckle as he remember his flatmates reaction.

"I can imagine." Ariel said with a giggle. "John, you don't actually think we..."

"Oh no! No, and it's none of my business if you did." John said, his words followed by awkward silence.

"Well, um... let's get back to work." He tried, getting up. Ariel just giggled and smiled.


	48. I'd Like to See You Try

**Chapter XXXXVIII**

Ariel and John actually finished packing. Everything in Ariel's flat was now ready to be moved. John stared at the rather small pile of boxes that lay in the living room of her old flat.

 _This is all she has?_  John wondered. Then he remember how much stuff he had when he came back from Afghanistan and realized this is probably all she's ever needed.

Ariel was just doing one finally sweep of her bedroom when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, checking it.  
"The lorry outside is for you, when you are ready. -SH"

Curiosity peaked, Ariel went to the window. Sitting on the curb outside her front door was a large truck, easily big enough to haul all her belongings. And sitting in the cab of the truck were three well-muscled men.

"How did you swing me a moving lorry? -AH"  
"Man owed me a favour. Figured you could use it. -SH" Ariel didn't reply, she just smiled down at her phone.

She tucked it into her pocket and went to tell John the news, then together they went to make use of the men and the lorry. After helping load in about four boxes and her sofa, Ariel felt her mobile vibrate again. She pulled it out and beamed at the text.

"Not good? -SH" She could practically hear the worry in his voice. She quickly replied.  
"No, very good, Sherlock. Thank you. Xx -AH" At that moment, John called Ariel over to help him move something.

With in the hour, they had everything safely stowed in the lorry and Ariel gave the men the drop off address. Then it was in the taxi and back to Baker Street. Once they arrived, the men helped John and Ariel move Ariel's things into her new flat.

In the end, it looked very much the same way her old flat had, with the boxes pilled in the living room. Ariel thank the movers and sent them on their way. She closed the door with a heavy sigh, completely exhausted.

"Coming up for tea?" John asked, hanging his jacket up. Ariel nodded and began to climb the stairs. She flopped down on the sofa, completely exhausted. There was no sign of the consulting detective. John made his way to the kitchen to make them dinner.

"Thank you for your help, John." Ariel called out.

"No problem, Ariel." John replied, disappearing into the kitchen. Ariel melted into the sofa, dozing off. It had been a good day.

She had woken up next to Sherlock, moved out of her old flat and into her new one. And day before, they had put a criminal behind bars. She finally felt safe, relaxed and completely new. Tomorrow will dawn on a new chapter of my life. She thought, a smile on her face.

Sometime later, she heard John curse from the kitchen and then the smoke detector went off. Instantly wide awake, Ariel stood up.

"John? Are you alright?" She called into the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." John responded. Ariel heard another mumbled "Bloody hell" come from the kitchen.

"Are you sure?" Ariel asked, worriedly

"Yeah, I'm sure. Could you turn the alarm off, please?" He called out, clearly very disgruntled.

"Yeah, sure." Ariel said, getting up and making her way to the machine that was incessantly beeping. Eventually, she got it to stop. John stomped out of the kitchen and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"What do you want for dinner?" He asked with a long face.

"Burnt dinner, did you?" Ariel asked with a small giggle. John sighed and nodded.

"Yeah. Apparently frozen pizza doesn't take that long to cook." John chuckled out. Ariel giggled along.

"Well, Doctor Watson, what would you like? I believe I owe you." Ariel said, reigning in her laughter and give John a wide smile.

"Really? I don't think you owe me anything. But if your willing to buy dinner, I'm not going to object." John said, a small grin gracing his lips. Ariel grinned back.

"Pizza ok with you?" She asked, pulling out her mobile and looking to John.

"Sounds heavenly." John said with a laugh.

"Alright then." She replied, dialling the number and ordering pizza. An hour and a half later, the two were draped over the couch, pizza gone, watching reruns of Top Gear.

"I love Clarkson. He's just so funny." John said as he chuckled at the man on the telly.

"He reminds me of my uncle." Ariel said, giggling.

"Do you have much family?" John asked before realizing that her mother and brother were dead and this probably wasn't the topic she wanted to talk about.

"A bit. Lots of distant relatives I've never met, but close? My mothers brother and sister and then my dads brother. They're all married with kids, and most of my grandparents are still alive." Ariel said, watching the telly. John nodded, his lips forming the letter o. They sat in silence for a moment, just watching the cars race.

"It's getting late. Should we be worried about Sherlock?" Ariel asked, looking around the room. It was dark outside now and she hadn't heard any noise from the detective since they arrived.

"I wouldn't worry too much. Sherlocks been gone whole nights like this. Leaves without so much as a note, comes back the next morning. He'll be alright." John reassured her. Ariel glanced at the door, wishing it would open to reveal the consulting detective.

"Okay." She consented. Ariel pulled out her mobile and texted Sherlock.

"Where are you? Please come home. -AH" After that, she settled back down to watch the show and not long after, she fell asleep on the sofa.

**XXXXXXX**

Sherlock was pacing, waiting for the results of his latest experiment. Finally, Molly arrived with the test results.

"Ah Molly. About time." Sherlock said, taking long strides across the lab to the mousy pathologist.

"Sorry. I... umm I was just, closing up the lab. You... you're welcome to stay... but I... I have to go." Molly stuttered out. Sherlock looked her up and down, quickly deducing her reasons for leaving the lab.

"Ah, date with Lestrade tonight. That explains the hair. Where is he taking you? Let me guess, you two are having a night in? Obviously, your hoping it will end in..." Sherlocks deduction was interrupted by Molly.

"I do have a date with Lestrade. But we are going out tonight, just so you know." Molly said boldly, before heading towards the door. She paused briefly by the door.

"Remember to shut the lights off when you leave." Molly called out and then the pathologist was gone. Sherlock returned his attention to his results, pouring over the new information. This was an experiment he had been working on for weeks now. He then set to work examining samples.

An indeterminable length of time later, Sherlock heard his mobile chime on the tabletop next to him. Peeling his eyes away from the microscope, he picked up his phone and checked his texts.

"Where are you? Please come home. -AH" Sherlock felt his heart lurch at the words he read. Something about Ariel's text made him feel uneasy. He felt like racing home and checking up on her. Why though?

He never felt this way before, so... obsessed with someone else. The closest thing he could compare it to was how badly he wanted to return to his friend after faking his death. But even John didn't inflict this many emotions on him. What was wrong with him?

Sherlock decided to spend the night in the lab, researching and discovering what was causing him this emotional unbalance. In his hurry to get to work, he forgot to hit send on the text.

"Working at Bart's. Be home soon. -SH"

**XXXXXXXX**

Ariel woke up, sprawled on the sofa covered in a thin blanket John had evidently put on her when he finally headed to bed last night. She sat up, stretching, and made her way to the bathroom. When she got out, she turned to see Sherlock flounce around the flat.

"Sherlock!" She cried, overcome with happiness. She ran and hugged him. Sherlock went stiff as a board as her arms encircled him. Ariel giggled after a moment.

"You know, you could at least pretend to know what a hug is." Ariel said, smiling. Sherlock gave her a quick smile. That's when they heard the doorbell ring.

"Ah, that will be Lestrade. Good, I was getting bored." Sherlock mused out loud, before shouting, "John! Answer the door!"

A stream of mild curses and grumblings and the sound of shuffling feet coming down the stairs later, John made it to the front door and let Lestrade in. Sherlock had flopped on his chair, fiddling with the bow of his violin as he heard Lestrade pound up he stairs.

"Ah Lestrade. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Sherlock asked, a coy smirk on his face.

"What the hell is this Sherlock?" Lestrade yelled at him, fuming as he held up a bunch of papers to Sherlock. John came in behind Lestrade and shared a confused glance with Ariel, who just shrugged.

"I believe, Lestrade, that that is the police report you required me to fill out two days ago." Sherlock said coolly. Lestrade huffed in frustration.

"Yes, Sherlock, it is. But what you wrote in it is not acceptable." Lestrade fumed. John took this as the time for him to step in.

"What did he write?" John asked, stepping in between The furious DI and the subject of his angry. Lestrade just shoved the papers at John.

"Just read it." He growled, staring at Sherlock disapprovingly. John grabbed it and read not more then the first few lines before looking up at Sherlock.

"Sherlock you wrote "do to the complete incompetence of the police force, I was called into the scene to investigate. Apparently, they could not open their eyes to see the note on the mothers desk, thus linking the kidnappings to a recently released criminal. It would be beneficial for Scotland Yard to hire intelligent people to conduct their investigations." Why would you say that?!" John was now nearly as red faced as Lestrade had been when he had entered.

"You are perfectly aware that everything I said there was true." Sherlock remarked.

"But Sherlock, you can't submit that to the superintendent! He'll fire me, and then where will you get your cases?" Lestrade asked, still rather annoyed. That seemed to silence Sherlock for a moment, a brief moment, before...

"I'm sure I could find another source." He mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that." Lestrade chastised, before letting out a long sigh. During their little argument, John had continued reading.

"What is this supposed to mean? "Being of superior intellect, I managed to corner the kidnapper and his accomplice and incapacitate them so that they may be taken into custody." How exactly does your 'superior intellect' play into this?" John questioned, reading off another statement of Sherlocks. The detective groaned dramatically.

"As always John, you see but you do not observe." Sherlock droned.

"I'm going to need you to do it again, but this time with a bit of respect." Lestrade said, taking the paper back from John. Sherlock groaned again.

"I'm serious Sherlock. If your going to keep messing up reports, I'm going to make you redo them." Lestrade said firmly.

"I'd like to see you try." Sherlock said with a sly tone.

"You know I can and I will." Lestrade said, and with a nod to John and Ariel, he left.


	49. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much Lemony Prescott! This chapter wouldn't exist if it weren't for you!

**Chapter XXXXIX**

After Lestrade left and John had torn a strip off of Sherlock, the consulting detective sulked off to his room, muttering about stupid reports on his way. As soon as his bedroom door slammed, John let out a long, tired sigh. Ariel put a hand on his shoulder.

"Tea and biscuits?" She asked. John nodded gratefully and took a seat in his armchair. He listened as Ariel moved around the kitchen and thought about her. The more he thought, the more he realized he didn't know about her.

Though John was sure Sherlock knew her inside and out, he didn't and that was slightly scary. As Ariel passed him a cuppa and set a plate of biscuits on the small table beside him, John resolved to fix that gap in his knowledge.

"Tell me about yourself Ariel." John asked, putting his cup to his lips. Ariel made herself comfortable on the sofa across from John. She stared at the cup in her hands for a moment before replying.

"What do you want to know?" She asked, watching the steam rise from her cup.

"Where did you grow up? What is your family like? When did you move to London?" John asked. Those weren't the questions he really wanted answers for, but perhaps the answers to these questions might give him insight into the answers he wanted.

"I grew up just outside Bristol, on the coast. My family lived in a rather large house, with a large yard and hardly any neighbours. I had quite the quiet childhood." Ariel recalled, a smile on her face.

"My family was fairly normal. Nothing too interesting. I moved to London when I was 18. I craved the big city. Shortly after though, I joined the military. I served as an Aviation IT Systems Operator." John chuckled lightly at that.

"What?" Ariel asked, looking hurt. John shook his head.

"Nothing. Just, I remember, there was an IT I had to give a physical to. He was a regular carrot top with good sense of humour, that lad." John recounted, laughing. Ariel smiled.

"Sorry, continue." John said, calming down. Ariel nodded and went on.

"I did one term and came back to London for schooling. I went to uni and was trained to be a report and journalist. I always thought that's what I wanted. But my first job, well, me first real job, all I was doing was making lies believable.

I quit shortly after, had a few other jobs here and there, and eventually found work for a company designing webpages. It's wasn't fabulous, but it paid the rent. Then I got an offer to be a reporter, a real reporter, for an online newspaper.

The best part was, I was printing real news and truth. I've been working with them for years now, so I've worked up the ranks so that I have people gathering the info and I just compile it now. And as long as I get it in on time, I get paid." Ariel said, grinning. John smiled back.

"So that's why it seems like I'm unemployed. I can work when ever and where ever I want." Ariel laughed. John chuckled along for a minute.

"So... What else did you do? I mean, between the army and now?" John asked carefully. Ariel picked up on his hidden interest.  _He wants to know about it_. Ariel thought, staring at her hands in her lap. She knew she would have to do this sooner or later, she had just really hoped it had been later. With a deep breath, she started.

"I work for the government. Small job, not much more then office work, really, but still, secrets passed through my hands. Not that I always knew it. My boyfriend at the time, he... well, he tried to get me to tell him things. The secrets I knew. Secrets that could bring the whole world crashing down around our ears.

I let one or two slip, and the next day, people were dead because of it. I found out the hard way that my boyfriend was a stone cold killer. He dumped me a few months later when I refused to give him access to my files anymore. I'm lucky he didn't kill me." Ariel recalled, a sad look clouding her eyes.

"It wasn't long after that I worked for a particularly striking figure of the British government. One Mycroft Holmes." John spit his tea out before his jaw dropped.

"Mycroft? You knew Mycroft?" John stutter out. Ariel giggled lightly.

"Yes. Remember? I told you." Ariel said, obviously enjoying the confused look on Johns face as he tried to connect the dots. Suddenly, a flash back hit him.

At the restaurant, the first time he'd heard from Ariel in years. The text, dinner and the way she had described Sherlock perfectly. She had said " _I've had... dealing with men like him before._ " Of course! Mycroft fit that same description perfectly.

"Got it, then?" Ariel asked smugly as she watched Johns face dawn with realization.

"You... worked... for Mycroft?" John asked disbelievingly.

"Well, I wouldn't say worked. More like, was forced to help." She clarified, a look of disgust on her face.

"Is there any other way to work for a Holmes?" John asked with a well meant chuckle.

"That's true." Ariel responded in kind, a playful smile on her lips. "Anyway, we parted ways shortly after. Nothing more then a simple acquaintance."

"Why'd you quit that job? Must've paid well." John said before sipping his tea.

"Because I had to." Ariel said coldly, giving John a look that could only mean " _I was fired_ ".

"Oh." He said quietly. A moment of silence passed, and in it Johns playful spirit rekindled.

"What was it? One to many flirtatious winks in the hallway? Or did he just not like how you made his cuppa?" John chided. Ariel gave him a look that could cut through steel, but her reply was gently.

"It was because of my old boyfriend." Ariel said in a low, sad sounding voice. John let that sink in. The older Holmes brother had fired her because of a past relationship. John knew Mycroft was heartless at times, and cold the rest of it, but surely a girls mistake couldn't make her worthy to be let go... Could it? John suddenly began to wonder just how dangerous her past boyfriend could be.

"As I said before, he was a stone cold, heartless, killer." Ariel said, reading Johns mind. John raised an eyebrow at her, asking her silently to continue. She sighed before beginning.

"Do you remember the bloke who kidnaped Sherlock and I?" Ariel asked. John nodded.

"His name was Sebastian Moran. One of the worlds deadliest snipers, and at one time, my boyfriend." Ariel paused to let that sink in. Johns mind was racing. The guy who nearly killed Sherlock was Ariel's old boyfriend?

"We were over seven years ago, but it seems he found an ally. Jim Moriarty." Ariel said.

"What?! The bastard that kidnapped you and tried to kill Sherlock was in league with Moriarty?!" John yelled. That was it. He wished he could go back to blissful ignorance now. Or kill the right bastard.

There was a muffled "shut up!" from the direction of Sherlocks bedroom. A moment of silence ensued.

"Calm down John. It's alright. Moran's in prison and Moriarty is dead." Ariel reminded him and something in her tone reminded John of the cold, distant tones Sherlock used when people were being utterly stupid.

"Right. Right." John said, drawing in a deep breath. "What else did you do?"

"You won't like it." Ariel said after a moment of thought.

"Come on, how bad can it be?" John said with a small, lighthearted chuckle. But the moment he saw Ariel's sad, broken eyes, he knew this was no laughing matter.

"You can tell me." John reassured her comfortingly. Ariel drew a deep breath, steeling herself for the admission she had hoped she'd never have to make.

"I... I killed people. Not always knowingly, but I do have blood on my hands. Innocent blood. Blood that would never have been spilt if I hadn't interfered." She turned to face John with watering eyes. "Some of them were good men and women. Some were my friends. But the closer they got to me, the more likely they became a target, until..." Ariel broke off as silent tears rolled down her pale cheeks.

John was frozen for a moment. How could this beautiful, sweet, caring girl be a killer? He was confused, to say the least. What should he think about the girl living in his flat now?

"The ones I was forced to kill, I could always put the blame on someone else. But, the ones I took because I thought it was right... Their faces haunt my every dream." She whispered, wiping her tears stained cheeks.

"It's alright." John tried soothingly the only words that would come out.

"No, it's not alright, John." Ariel said in a deadly low voice. "I murdered innocent people and I felt absolutely no remorse. No mercy. I am a horrible human being."

With those words, Johns mind was made up. No more sitting on the fence; John Watson had chosen a side and he was not going to let this girl down.

"Ariel, listen to me. At the time, you had a reason, your reason. But the point is now, now you realize you made a mistake. Now you are remorseful. Maybe not the best time for it, but better late then never." John said, laying his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him with watery eyes.

"That doesn't change what I did." She whispered.

"No, you're right, it doesn't. But, you have changed your ways. I don't think you'll ever kill again, will you?" John said softly. Ariel shook her head as a small chuckle escaped her.

"No, no I won't." Ariel said simply. She looked at John, who was smiling at her.

"Do you trust me then?" She asked. John gave her a sad smile.

"We've all done things we later regret. So long as you promise not to hurt me or my friends, I trust you." John stated simply.

"I promise." Ariel swore. And never in her life had she been more determined to keep it.

**XXXXXXX**

Sherlock listened intently to John and Ariel's conversation. He was rather disgusted to find out that Ariel had worked for his pompous, obnoxious brother, but at least it was in the past.

Sherlock was intrigued to learn Ariel's history. He also compared the new facts with the old ones and made corrections in his memory. For instance, Ariel had, indeed heard gunfire before, and the reason she was so scared during the shoot-out in the ally was because it brought back horrible memories.

Sherlock tried hard to make sense of things as he lay on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking. He came out of his mind palace hours later, a thousand unanswered questions still in his mind. Sherlock decided that the only way to get his answers would be to go to the source of the problem - Ariel.

Sherlock flung himself out of bed and yanked his door open, pausing briefly to let his eyes adjust the small glow coming from the kitchen light. He briefly looked into the living room, noting Ariel was not there, and swept down the flight of stairs to the main level.

He quickly and silently made his way down the hall, opened Ariel's flat and walked in. He stopped short when he saw her, laying on the low framed mattress in her new bedroom. She looked so peaceful, almost happy.

Sherlock thought back to the conversation he overheard - could this really be the same girl? Sherlock plopped himself down next to Ariel on the bed and sat there, just looking at her. Questions that had been flying around in his head finally seemed to settle down, now becoming only a faint murmur in his mind.

He didn't understand it. All the test showed there was no change, everything was exactly the same. Every experiment and test he could think of to put himself through, he had done and nothing showed up in the results. Except the increased levels of dopamine, serotonin and norepinephrine. But surely, he couldn't... could he? It wasn't possible... Was it? Sherlock sat there, contemplating, when a warm hand gently stroked his arm.

"Are you going to lie down or what?" A happy, groggy voice whispered. Sherlock smiled in the dark and lie down next to Ariel, allowing her to curl up next to him. Eventually, they fell asleep, Sherlock contemplating the mystery that was Ariel.


	50. You Are Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, 50 chapters! I can't believe it! I want to give a special thank you to all of my amazing readers - you guys made this fic a success! This chapter is mainly fluff, so please enjoy. Here's to another 50!
> 
> Love, SilverOcean01

**Chapter XXXXX**

Ariel awoke when a warm something moved away from her, allowing cold air to reach her skin. With an involuntary whimper, she slowly rubbed and opened her eyes.

Sherlock was perched on the edge of her bed in his traditional thinking position. His eyes were closed, his lips were pursed and his hands were steepled in front of his face. Ariel scooted closer and rubbed a tentative thumb along the curve of Sherlocks shoulder blade, gently massaging the tense muscles there.

They stayed there like that, Sherlock thinking and Ariel massaging him, for several quiet minutes. Ariel broke it with a gentle whisper.  
"Are you ok?" She asked. Sherlock seemed to come back to life, shifting under her hand. Ariel let it fall back to the bed as Sherlock turned around to face her. His eyes were big, uncertain. Ariel suddenly felt a lump in her throat.

"I can't figure it out." He quietly huffed, sitting beside her. Ariel shifted so she was half sitting, half laying.

"Figure what out?" She asked gently. She took one of Sherlocks hands in hers, gave it a small kiss and stroked it as she returned her eyes back to his.

"You. I can't figure you out." Sherlock replied, still troubled. "I heard your conversation with John last night, about your rather... unfortunate past. But there's no possible way that the girl you described could be you." Ariel's eyes went sad as she sat up and gave Sherlock a sad smile.

"It was a past me. I grew. I learned. It's part of who I am, my past, but it doesn't define who I am now. That's my choice. And I choose to be what you see right now." Ariel said gently, her voice little more then a whisper. Sherlock looked her up and down, trying to make sense of what she just said.

"What is the person you know me to be, Sherlock?" She asked in a breathless voice.

"I know you to be interesting. You're not an idiot like the rest. You're funny and kind and talented and sentimental. You're... well, you." Sherlock said. He hated how common his phrases sounded, how completely unlike him they were, but they were the only way he knew how to express what he thought. Ariel gave him a big, genuine smile.

"Then that's what I am. I've changed a lot since my past. And I don't want it to interfere with my present. Or my future." She whispered, lifting her free hand to gently stroke Sherlocks sharp cheekbone. Sherlock nuzzled into the touch. He'd never admit it, but he loved it when Ariel touched him, held him, stroked him. It made him feel... good.

"Can we never talk about it again?" Ariel asked looking directly in Sherlocks eyes. Sherlock simply nodded. Ariel gave him another smile.

"Thank you." With those words, she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him into a hug. Sherlock was surprised at first, but a moment later he wrapped his lanky arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

Ariel's head came back and she gave a cocky smile before she leaned in and pecked his lips. She gave him a long, chaste kiss, wishing she could give more, but not wanting to scare him. She pulled away a little, her eyes flicking to his lips before coming to gaze into his eyes. Sherlock looked utterly helpless and confused. Ariel let out a little giggle.

"My genius." She said fondly with a sweet smile. Sherlock grinned back. Ariel let out a loud yawn.

"Come on. Back to bed with you." She said with another giggle as she fell onto the bed, dragging Sherlock with her. Ariel waited until Sherlock got comfortable and then she snuggled right up to him, burying her face in his chest and falling asleep.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

The sunlight flittered in around the closed curtains of Ariel's bedroom. Sherlock's eyes opened as sleep retreated. He hadn't slept this good in weeks. He heard the long, low inhalation of Ariel beside him as she, too, woke up.

"Good morning." He whispered, as Ariel rolled over.

"Mm, morning." She whispered back as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. A small smile graced Sherlocks lips. He ran his fingers through her bed tangled hair, careful not to yank to hard on it. Ariel found it very sweet of him.

Suddenly, Ariel saw a flame ignite in Sherlocks eyes. It was not a very nice look.

"What's wrong?" She asked worriedly. She still wasn't sure everything from last night had been resolved.

"I...I can't stand the thought of someone else having been this close to you. Especially not  _him_." Sherlock said, a certain venom to his deep baritone. " _He_  never treated you like I can treat you."

Ariel smirked.  _So, he's got a possessive streak, has he?_  She thought, a playful sparkle in her eye.

"No, he didn't. Why don't you show me how you'd treat me? Make me yours. " Ariel said as she leaned over him, a seductive and playful hint in her tone.

Sherlock might not know much about love, but good god this woman was driving him crazy. With a quick smirk, Sherlock darted up and kissed her. This wasn't like the gentle kiss she had given him last night. No, this was a fiery, passionate, lusty kiss, one that both of them wanted, but neither would admit.

Sherlock had one hand wrapped around her waist, keeping her close, while the other was buried in her hair. Ariel guided Sherlock, teaching him techniques he didn't know. But Ariel was impressed when Sherlock took back the reins and kissed just as passionately. He may not know much about the techniques of love, but he was a quick study.

Ariel gently pulled away, a smile on her lips.

"You are mine." Sherlock panted out, the possessiveness in his voice as clear as day. Ariel collapsed beside him and snuggled up to him again.

"Mmmm, I am yours." She whispered into his ear sweetly. They lay there for a few minutes, enjoying just being together, until there was a knock at the door.

Sherlock groaned and rolled over, hiding his head under a pillow. Ariel laughed at him, threw off the covers and made her watt to the door. Standing on the other side was John, wrapped in his dressing gown and looking rather annoyed. Ariel noticed a green sludge stain on his nightshirt.

"Is Sherlock here?" John asked grumpily. Ariel tried not to laugh.

"What did he do now?" She asked, crossing her arms to retain some heat.

"He left some weird green sludge on the bathroom counter and I got it all over my over my shirt." John replied, gesturing to his stained nightshirt. "I need to remind him that I don't care if he does experiments as long as he puts them away." At that point a groan emanated from Ariel's bedroom and Ariel burst out in a giggle.

"We'll be up in a minute. You can chastise him then, ok?" She asked, beaming. John smiled and shook his head.

"Fine. Should I put the kettle on?" He asked, turning to go.

"Yes please." Ariel said. John nodded and walked away. Ariel shut the door and made her way back to the bedroom. Sherlock was still hiding under the covers with a pillow over his face.

"Come on, mad man! It's time to get up!" She giggled, pulling the covers off Sherlock in one movement. Sherlock instinctively curled up at the loss of heat. Ariel shook her head and smiled. She climbed onto the bed beside Sherlock and closely removed the pillow from his face.

"Come on. John's making tea and I'm hungry." She whined, pulling on Sherlocks arm. Sherlock gave in and climbed off the bed. Ariel sent him upstairs, telling him she just needed to get dressed and that he should do the same.

So while Ariel put on a freshly washed pair of jeans and one if her favourite blouses, Sherlock was in his room putting on his purple button down and black trousers.

Ariel padded up the stairs a few minutes later, surprised to see Sherlock sitting in his armchair already. She heard John working in the kitchen and went to help him. Ariel made herself some toast and tea and settled down on the sofa in the living room.

John carried in his and Sherlocks mugs, handing Sherlocks to him before settling down at the desk in the corner, opening his laptop and working on something. He got up a moment later and disappeared into the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with a plate of eggs. Sherlocks head snapped up at the delicious smell of them.

"John, would you be kind enough to make me some?" He asked, feigning politeness.

"No, make them yourself." John huffed before returning to his spot at the desk. "Or, as a second thought, why don't you ask your girlfriend to make them for you?" John teased before eating a forkful.

Sherlock was sulking now. Ariel sighed and got up to make Sherlock some eggs. The man hardly ate, she wasn't going to deny his request for food. As soon as Ariel was out of the room, John spoke up again to Sherlock.

"You're hungry? Must've been quite the time last night." John said cheekily. Sherlock just rolled his eyes and groaned. When would John learn he wasn't sleeping with Ariel the way he was implying?

"You know John, you really need to find some new material. Your taunts are completely baseless." Sherlock spat out. John just let out a low chuckle.

"Oh, they aren't completely baseless." He teased. Sherlock just huffed in response. A minute later, Ariel returned with a plate of eggs and toast for Sherlock. She frowned when she saw him curled up in a huffing ball on his chair. Ariel turned to gives John a questioning look.

"John, what did you do to Sherlock?" She asked, using her best scolding tone.

"Nothing." John protested. Ariel gave him a 'tell me the truth' look, but John just held his ground. Ariel sighed and went back to Sherlock. She held the plate of food out to him and he raised his head at her. His eyes were soft as he accepted the plate. Ariel smiled.

A mobile went off across the room and John answered.

"Hello, John Watson." He said. There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again. "Hi Skye. Yes, of course I'm free tonight. What did you have in mind?" He paused again, waiting for the answer. "Alright, see you then." He smiled and then ended the call.

"Who was that?" Ariel asked casually.

"Skye. We have a date tonight." John said with a boyish grin.

"Good for you." Ariel replied. Then, she found an opportunity to get payback. "Remember to take a French Letter with you, yeah?" She added cheekily.

Sherlocks head shot up and gave her an amused smirk. John frowned at first, then he shook his head with a look painted on his face that clearly said he was above her petty joke.

"You don't need to remind me." He chuckled out, getting up and taking his dishes to the kitchen. They managed to finish breakfast in peace after that and once he cleared his plate, Sherlock set about playing violin while Ariel worked on her laptop and John on his. There was no case today, but somehow, Sherlock didn't mind.

A few hours later, Ariel disappeared downstairs to do some unpacking, leaving John and Sherlock alone. Sherlock had many questions about what he should be doing in his relationship and so far, his research on the internet had not been as productive as he would have liked.

That meant that the only reliable resource he had left was John, who was currently sitting across from him in his armchair reading the news paper.

"John, I need your help." Sherlock asked all of a sudden.

"You need my... help?" John asked over his paper, surprised.

"Yes. I need your help on the topic of love and romance." Sherlock asked, rolling his eyes. John could be really stupid sometimes.

"You have got to be kidding me." John said with a laugh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *French Letter - According to the interweb, a 'French Letter' is British slang for a condom. As I am not British, I'm not a 100% sure if this is true or not, so let me know if I'm wrong. At any rate, this definition of what I was trying to say should clear up any misunderstandings about the humour I was trying to write.*


	51. Three Simple Words

Chapter XXXXXI

"John, I'm serious." Sherlock said, his face reflecting the seriousness of his tone. John stopped laughing, noticing how solemn is friend was.

"Really? You want my help?" John asked, more then a bit confused.

"That is what I said, isn't it?" Sherlock asked back grouchily. He hated having to ask for help in the first place, but John was making it even more difficult.

"Yeah, but, you're 'the great Sherlock Holmes'. I didn't think you needed anyone's help." John mused, a smirk on his lips. Sherlock sighed dramatically.

"Clearly, you are not as observant as I had thought, John." Sherlock retorted. John tried to hide a snigger. Sherlock rolled his eyes at his flatmate and got up.

"Never mind. I can see you are not going to take this seriously." He huffed. But John shook his head and pushed the consulting detective back into his chair.

"You're not going anywhere, Sherlock. I am, from now on, going to take this seriously. I guess I just didn't think you needed help. But now, I can see it's time for me to teach you something, for once." He said as he took his place across from Sherlock, a big grin on his face.

Sherlock sighed again dramatically, though inside he was secretly happy for the help. John was more experienced in this area, and the one Sherlock trusted most.

"Ok, so, umm, first things first, do you know how to kiss?" John asked, a bit awkwardly, but he powered through. Sherlock rolled his eyes again as he responded.

"Of course, John. I am completely educated on the subject." He answered. This comment produced a small smirk from the doctor.

"Alright, just checking. So, romance then. Ok. First, think about her. Often. Tell her how beautiful she is, or how nice she smells or how brightly her eyes sparkle. Basically, complement her, but in your own way. And not 'I can tell from your perfume you wish me to notice you.' " John started his speech. Sherlock groaned, but continued listening.

"Buy her something ever once in awhile. Give her gifts. And I am not talking about the gifts like you gave poor Molly Hooper for Christmas last year." John added.

"It's perfectly expectable for me to give a healthy lung to an pathologist." Sherlock huffed out defensively. John decided to ignore him and press on.

"Let her know you think about her. Do things with her, like watch telly or get something to eat together or just talk. Open up. Tell her something about yourself that others may not know." John continued, only to be interrupted by the consulting detective.

"What could I possibly tell her about myself that she doesn't already know?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"Well, maybe, tell her about your childhood. Where you grew up. Why you and your brother fight all the time. I don't know, but I'm sure there's loads of things you could say about yourself." John answered, his tone indicating he was done talking about this, leaving a brief pause before he moved on.

"Kiss her. Often. Surprise her with it. When she's working in the kitchen or relaxing on the sofa or whenever. Trust me, it's one if the best things you can give her. However, snogging her in public, without her permission, might not end well." John explain.

"As if I would." Sherlock scoffed. John gave him a pointed look before continuing.

"Trust her, and show that you trust her. Let her inside that huge brain of yours and see what you're really like. And make sure she feels that she can do the same for you. But above all else, listen to her. And I don't mean how your listening to me, Sherlock Holmes." John stated, looking his friend in the eyes. Sherlocks attention seemed to have wavered slightly. Sherlock rolled his eyes, but focused on Johns next words.

"I mean listen, really listen, to her. Like she was telling you the most interesting things in the world. Because, in a way, she is. She's letting you into her mind, and even you can't get into her thoughts without listening to her." John let his words hang in the air for a minute, letting their importance sink in. Sherlock was now captivated by John, hanging off his every word. John gave him a small, friendly smile.

"And one final thing, Sherlock. Tell her you love her. Tell her what she means to you. And tell her often. If you do that, it doesn't really matter what else you do, because she will know you really, truly love her." John finished, leaning closer to his friend. John smiled reassuringly at Sherlock, who looked somewhat scared. After a moment of silence, Sherlock finally spoke up.

"So... how... how do I tell her? That I... you know..." Sherlock stumbled over the words coming out of his mouth. John chuckled briefly at his distressed friend.

"You just say it Sherlock. Three little words that can change the world. But it doesn't really matter how you say it, as long as you mean it and you show it." John said, beaming.

There was something about helping Sherlock with his new relationship that made him happy. Maybe because he was helping or maybe it was that he was seeing a different side to Sherlock, a more sensitive, and clumsy, one. Either way, the smile remained firmly fixed on his face. There was a long silence, which Sherlock ended.

"So... that's it? There's nothing else?" Sherlock huffed, annoyed.

"Well... How far are you wanting things to go?" John asked awkwardly. Sherlock just stared at him, trying to process what he was implying.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked, tilting his head at John. John went bright red and let out an awkward cough.

"Well... umm... Are you wanting to... umm..." John stuttered out, not making eye contact. After all his teasing remarks to Sherlock, this topic had all of a sudden become very awkward. Sherlock observed him for a moment. John was obviously embarrassed about what he was trying to say.

"Just spit it out John." Sherlock said impatiently. John sighed and cleared his throat.

"Do I need to instruct you in the ways of... bedroom activities?" John asked, clearly uncomfortable. Sherlock scoffed, repulsed at the idea John was presenting.

"Honestly, John, I am an adult male. I know how to have sex." Sherlock bit out harshly.

"Ok, ok. Just making sure." John said defensively, relieved not to have had to talk to Sherlock on the topic. Of course, then his 'good friend' instincts had to kick in.

"If you ever... you know, have any questions..." John let his unfinished sentence hang in the air. Sherlock blinked at his friend, mentally filling in the blanks.

"Yes... I'll be sure to let you know." He responded slowly. John just gave a nod, afraid of upsetting the now deafeningly awkward silence that had settled in.

"John..." Sherlock began slowly. John raised his eyes to meet Sherlocks.

"What is a socially acceptable present to get ones..." Sherlock couldn't bring himself to say the word. It didn't sound right. It didn't describe what Ariel was to him. And yet, it was the only appropriate term. "... Girlfriend?"

"Well," John began, a smirk on his face. "That would probably depend on the girl. Although, chocolate and flowers are always a safe bet. What does Ariel like?" Sherlock froze. He wasn't sure how to answer that question. He knew she liked sentimental things. But what made something sentimental? He knew she loved him, but outside of that, what did she like?

"I... I'm not sure." Sherlock admitted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. John gave him an understanding nod.

"Then take the time to get to know her. Ask her what she likes. And observe. You're good at that." John said with a chuckle. Sherlock gave him a brief smile, which quickly turned into a frown.

"John, in the two weeks you I were gone, something happened to me... I'm not sure what it is." Sherlock said, shaking his head. This feeling had been bothering him for quite some time now.

"It's... It's like a tightness in my chest, and a slight fog in my mind, and a sort of... hypersensitivity. I feel numb and alive, clear and foggy, awake and asleep, all at the same time. It's... It's mind boggling." Sherlock attempted to explain. He was trying not to sound like his usual, clinical self, but he didn't exactly have the right words otherwise.

John gave him a small chuckle and a wide grin.

"That's called love, mate." He said. Sherlock shook his head.

"Really?" Sherlock asked, not believing it.

"Really." John affirmed. Sherlock took a moment to think this information through.

"And normal people want to experience this? It's debilitating." Sherlock asked in what was probably supposed to sound like mock horror, but in reality, sounded much more real then faked.

"Yeah, it can do that. But that's not all it does." John chuckled out. Sherlock groaned. He wish he understood this better.

"Do I have to take her out to dinner now?" Sherlock asked with a small sigh.

"Well, she may like it if you went out on a date sometimes, but you really should ask her what she wants." John answered. "Girls are funny that way, they all like different things." Sherlock shook his head.

"This is possibly the most confusing subject I have ever attempted to study." He muttered, his head held in his hands. Johns eyes widened in surprise before he let out a sympathetic laugh. Sherlock had studied advanced sciences, maths and a variety of topics a normal person would consider confusing and complex. But Sherlocks biggest struggle was the dealing with, and understanding of, emotions.

"That's women for you." John chuckled out. Sherlock looked at John, tilting his head as he studied.

"But you're exceptionally good at understanding and pleasing women. It can't be that difficult." Sherlock said, though it sounded like he was mostly talking to himself.

"The key is listening to what they say. If you want to make them happy listen and look for what does. It's not exactly rocket science." John answered.

"No, rocket science is approximately seven times harder than understanding emotions for a normal human being." Sherlock muttered.

John watched Sherlock, watching his mind work, watching him try desperately to put together the puzzle of human emotions. John sighed and walked over to his friend. Sherlock looked up at him, and John saw in his eyes just how lost he was.

"Listen." John said, placing a hand on his friends shoulder. "She fell in love with you. You, and your big, daft brain. All she wants is for you to love her back, in the only way you can." The doctor gave Sherlock a reassuring smile.

He felt him sigh and relax under his hand. Sherlocks eyes fell closed as he forced himself to relax and store this new knowledge. He began to drift off into his mind palace. John noticed his friend drifting away, so he headed to make himself some tea.

He was half-way to the kitchen when he heard Sherlock say, in a low, deep voice;  
"Thank you."

John smiled. He would do anything for this man, who had saved his life, on more than one occasion. Giving him dating advice was nothing.

"You're welcome, you git." He said to himself with another low chuckle. John disappeared into the kitchen, putting on the kettle.

Sherlock sat completely still in his chair, thinking, memorizing and storing his conversation with John. He didn't want to forget a single thing John had said, as it just might come in handy one day. Sherlock was still nervous about his new relationship with Ariel, but John had helped to clarify somethings.

He had taught Sherlock that the one simple phrase had the power to change everything. Sherlock marvelled at how humans had managed to attract such meaning to so few words.

He vowed to show Ariel, every day just how much he loved her. Yes, he loved her. He was sure of it. Any doubt had been wiped out of his mind. And he was going to prove it.


	52. Just The Two Of Us

Chapter XXXXXII

Ariel stood in the centre of her new flat, staring around the room. At the moment, she was trying to decide which wall to put the telly on. After another moment of consideration, she shrugged. It didn't really matter anyways, she would have to move it again when she redid the wallpaper.

She slid the last few big items into place and set about putting the smaller things away. Like the books that went in the old wooden shelf, or the flannels that went in the linen closet, or the dishes that went in the cupboards. Ariel opened a the first cupboard, the door coming right off its hinges.

Ariel carefully set down her plates and pushed on the bottom of the cupboard, testing to see if it could actually hold the weight of her dishes. She was honestly surprised when she was met with a thick, solid piece of wood. Looking back at the damaged door, she noticed it was only the screws that had let go - the hinges still perfectly intact.

Ariel sighed and set up her kitchen, eager to move in. Ariel made a mental note to pick up a fridge for the place. When she finally had the kitchen and living room set up to her liking, she sat herself down on her old sofa, opened her laptop and took a short break.

She had made arrangements with the a local repair man to fix the damage in her walls and then replace the wall paper. He had told her it would probably be a few days before he could start work on it, but Ariel didn't mind. She was going to pick up the wallpaper that afternoon. And some new screws to redo the hinges. At that moment, Mrs. Hudson came in.

"You-who!" She called out as she entered Ariel's flat, a tray of biscuits in her hands.

"Mrs. Hudson." Ariel called back sweetly, getting up to give the elder lady a hug. After they broke apart, Mrs. Hudson shoved the tray of biscuits into Ariel's hands.

"Really, Mrs. Hudson, you shouldn't have." She said.

"Now it was no trouble at all." The elder lady responded. She looked around at the interior of the flat. "Moved in already, have you?" She asked as she wandered into the kitchen, Ariel trailing behind.

"Yeah. All it needs is some new wallpaper and a fridge and it will be perfect." Ariel said, smiling at her landlady. Mrs. Hudson suddenly noticed the broken cupboard door.

"Oh dear! What happened here?" She asked, walking over to inspect it.

"Rusty screws. Nothing a couple new ones can't fix." Ariel replied in an optimistic tone. Mrs. Hudson turned to her again, positively beaming.

"You know, I knew you were something special the moment I laid eyes on you. And now look! You're fixing up the basement and you're friends with John and Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson flittered excitedly. Ariel smiled.

"I'm glad you like what I'm doing. If I ever do anything you don't like, let me know and I'll change it." Ariel reassured her. "As for Sherlock..." Ariel hadn't told anyone, except John of course, about her and Sherlock. And she wasn't really sure if she should. However, her doubts were abandoned when Mrs. Hudson smiled knowingly.

"Oh deary, what is it? Are you taken by him? He is quite a unique and handsome man." She said with a smile. Ariel grinned back.

"Very. I wish I could tell you, but I suppose he should be the one." Ariel explained.

"Alright sweetheart, if you believe it best. But you don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to know that he's quite taken with you, too." Mrs. Hudson said with a cheeky smile.

"You don't even know the half of it." Ariel said with a relieved laugh.

"Well, dear, I best be off. Mrs. Turner invited me over for tea, so I better not disappoint her." Mrs. Hudson said as she made her way to the door.

"Goodbye Mrs. Hudson." Ariel said with a little wave. When she heard the door click she turned back to her flat.

It wasn't near finished, but it already felt like home. Not that she had been living in a particularly fabulous place before. In fact, in all her years in London, she had never lived in a place that didn't need some fixing up. She supposed it was just her lot in life.

It wasn't long till she decided that she better go get the wallpaper or she would be completely at a loss later on. So she threw on her coat, slipped on her shoes and headed out the door. She paused briefly at the bottom of the stairs leading up to 221b.

She smiled to herself as she remembered the first time she had walked up those stairs. She remembered the strained sounds of Sherlocks violin drifting down the stairwell in the dark. She remembered following John up those rickety steps, listening to the violin grow louder. But most of all, she remembered the moment she first saw him, standing at the window, violin tucked neatly under his chin. Ariel supposed that was how she'd always remember him, because that was the moment their paths became intertwined.

Ariel pulled herself out of her daydream with a small chuckle. She felt like a stupid romantic. Without a second thought, she opened the door and left.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Sherlock was sitting at his microscope, studying some algae samples, when John wandered into the kitchen. Sherlock briefly looked up. John was currently wearing one of his best fitting button downs, which was a reddish colour, and a pair of dark jeans. His shoes, which he was surprisingly wearing already, were the brown leather ones he bought just the other day with the money he got from his aunt. He was wearing them, obviously, to stretch them out a bit before his date that night.

"Is she pretty?" Sherlock asked, turning a dial on his microscope

"What? Is who pretty?" John asked, pouring himself a glass of water.

"This girl you're meeting tonight. Is she pretty?" Sherlock repeated, a hint of annoyance.

"Oh, you mean Skye. Well, yes, she very pretty. I'd even go so far as to call her beautiful." John explained. Sherlock hummed. There was a pause in the conversation.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked. John was curious now. Sherlock never cared where he was going on his dates, why would he start now?

"Restaurant. Some Italian place or something. She picked it." John explained. And that's when it clicked. Why Sherlock suddenly cared about Johns date. He's collecting data to use with Ariel. John realized. It was so utterly Sherlock that he couldn't help the laugh that escaped. Sherlock looked up at him, a look of complete annoyance on his face.

"And you just let her pick? Doesn't seem like you." Sherlock commented.

"Well, I don't mind. She has good taste and it's just one night." John replied. He was suddenly aware that he would have to choose his words carefully, for Ariel's sake.

Unfortunately, John never got the chance to speak any further on the subject, as Sherlock returned to his work and plunged the room back into silence. It was only several minutes later, when John checked his watch, that words were spoken.

"I better run. Don't want to be late." John said, collecting his coat and wallet. Sherlock didn't acknowledge him, causing John to groan in annoyance.

"Right. Be back later." And with that, he dashed down the stairs. As he entered the foyer, he saw Ariel coming through the main door, shopping bags tucked under each arm. John helped her in, taking some bags and setting them onto the sofa in her flat.

"Thank you." Ariel said with a smile at John. "I just don't seem to have enough hands."

"No worries." John replied. After a moment, he added. "Will you be taking care of Sherlock tonight?" She chuckled.

"Yeah, I suppose. Though it's not really taking care of when I'm his..." Ariel stopped. She wasn't exactly sure what she was. They'd have to talk about that.

"...Girlfriend?" John supplied. With a chuckle and a nod from Ariel, he continued. "I know, but it's nice to be able to go out and not worry after him."

"I know. Now go have fun." Ariel said with a smile and a friendly push towards the door.

"I will. Ta." John said as he exited the flat. He headed down the hall and heard her door close behind him. He smiled to himself as he pushed his way out into London.

XXXXXXXXXX

Ariel sorted her shopping out, putting the good she'd bought away and storing the wallpaper, before she decided to go upstairs. It was just her and Sherlock at home, not even Mrs. Hudson was in. She climbed the stairs, thinking of all the things she wanted to say. All the explanations she should give Sherlock. But as she reached the door, she decided to let him do the talking.

She opened the door and found him working at the table at his microscope. Ariel smiled. There was nothing she loved more then to see him working on something. Quietly, she entered the flat and put the kettle on. She would have to order in something tonight. She suddenly felt like Chinese.

The kettle boiled and Ariel made tea, pouring some for both herself and Sherlock. She carefully set his cup beside him and took up a chair across the table. They sat their silently, Sherlock working and Ariel just content to watch and drink. About a half hour later, Sherlock stirred.

"Oh, Ariel. I hadn't noticed you there." Sherlock said, blinking at Ariel. The girl in question giggled before responding.

"I know. Just like you hadn't noticed your tea." She said, gesturing to the now cold cup of tea beside Sherlock. Sherlock looked briefly at it before turning back to study her.

"I'm going to order in. Is there anything you'd like?" Ariel asked, pulling out her mobile.

"I'm fine, thank you." Sherlock said, moving into the living room and pulling out his violin. Ariel made the call and then joined Sherlock in the living room, sitting on the sofa.

Ariel listened to the melody Sherlock played, which Ariel could tell was something Sherlock was in the midst of composing. It rose and fell in an enchanting way, weaving in and out of glorious climaxes and soft pauses. Ariel closed her eyes and swayed with the music, relaxing every muscle in her body and letting the music take over.

Sherlock watched her as he played, studying her. Of course, this wasn't the first time he'd seen her like this, completely surrendering herself to his music. But it still intrigued him. Why would she do that? Why would she let herself be completely at the mercy of his melody? Sherlock gently ended the piece of music, and Ariel smiled as her eyes flittered open and met his intense gaze.

"What is it Sherlock?" She asked gently, her voice as soft as velvet.

"You." He said simply, lowering the violin to his chair before standing back up.

"What about me?" She asked, a small giggle to her luscious tone.

"You give over is much of yourself for me. Why?" Sherlock asked, cocking his head.

"Because, I love you." Ariel said with a reassuring smile. Sherlock bit his lip, thinking. He paced for a brief moment, no more than a dozen steps. He turned back to Ariel, and his gaze pierced hers again. For a moment, they just stared at each other.

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Ariel muttered curses to the fast deliver as she made her way down the stairs. When she came back up, carrying several containers of Chinese food, she saw Sherlock sitting on the sofa watching telly. He had his knees drawn up against his chest with his long arms wrapped around them and his head resting on top of them.

Ariel grinned widely as she sat down beside him on the sofa and handed him a container. He took it, eyeing it curiously.

"I know you said you were fine, but I figured if I bought Chinese you'd just ask to eat some of mine, so I got extra for you." Ariel explained. Sherlock gave her a small smile.

"Thank you." He said, uncurling from his ball enough to lean over and place a kiss on the top of her head. Ariel couldn't help the blush that crept onto her face at the gesture.

They ate dinner while watching crap telly, which mostly consisted of reruns of a soap opera. After, Ariel cleaned the empty food containers away and settled back down beside Sherlock on the sofa. She put his arm around her and snuggled up to him, laying her head on his chest as they watched a movie. Sherlock had claimed not to be interested, but ten minutes into it, he was more enthralled than Ariel.


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter LIII

Ariel awoke the next morning and honestly was very much confused. She could have sworn she had fallen asleep last night on the sofa in 221b with watching movies with Sherlock. Now, however, she was very much in her own bed, in her own room, in her own flat.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, stretching before she went to throw off the covers. When she looked down, however, there was a large lump under the other half of the blanket and a mop of black curls peaking out the top.

Ariel smiled. Sherlock must have carried her down and spent the night. Ariel's smile turned into a frown. Why had he brought her down here if he was going to stay with her? And why was Sherlock sound asleep? That made two nights in a row he had actually stayed in bed and slept, a record as far as Ariel was concerned.

At that moment, Sherlock shifted and pushed the covers away from his face. Ariel couldn't help the smile that painted her lips as she watched him wake, scrubbing at his eyes and running a hand through his messy curls.

"Good morning." She said in a low, sweet voice before leaning in to kiss his forehead.

"Morning Ariel." He groaned out as he stretched.

Ariel couldn't contain the small giggle. Ariel got out of bed and set about getting dress while Sherlock padded to the washroom down the hall. When he came back in, Ariel asked, "Did John come home last night?" Sherlock shook his head.

"No. I waited until about 1 o'clock to see if he'd stumble home, but he must have found his way into her bed." Sherlock said, a smirk on his lips. Ariel turned to him, grinning.

"He's not the only one who found his way into a girls bed last night." She said playfully. "What happened to the sofa?"

"It was uncomfortable." Sherlock stated. Ariel waited for him to continue. When it was apparent he wasn't going to, she asked, "Why my bed, then?"

"Because mine is currently littered with experiments and I didn't wish to clean it up last night." Sherlock replied. Ariel giggled. Of course, it made perfect sense now.

"And you carried me down here?" She asked cautiously, as she put her arms around Sherlocks neck. He looked worried for a moment and bit his lip.

"Not good?" He asked. Ariel smiled reassuringly up at him.

"No, it's good, Sherlock." She said. She twisted a black curl around her finger as she thought. The stood like that, Ariel's arms flung around Sherlocks neck, fiddling with his curls as Sherlocks hands rested on Ariel's hips. Sherlock studied Ariel's face.

"You're troubled." Sherlock said. Not a question, a statement. Ariel sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed, motioning for Sherlock to join her. He did.

"I know this kind of stuff really isn't your territory, but I have to ask. Are we... you know... boyfriend and girlfriend now?" Ariel asked. Her tone told Sherlock all he needed to know. She had been mulling it over for days now, possibly since the night the first kissed.

"What do you want us to be?" Sherlock asked, biting his lips nervously. This really wasn't his area. Ariel looked down at her hands.

"Well... I'd be honoured to call you my boyfriend." She admitted, looking up at Sherlock.

"Then I would very much like to call you my girlfriend." Sherlock said, with a smirk. ariel smiled at him before looking back at her hands. There was a pause before she spoke.

"One more thing. Am I allowed to tell anyone?" She asked, looking at Sherlock again. The great detective considered this for a long moment.

"Who are you wanting to tell?" Sherlock asked in return.

"Well, I think Mrs. Hudson ought to know. Lestrade should know. Probably your brother, if he doesn't know already. And perhaps Molly Hooper?" Ariel listed off. Sherlock seemed to consider her list.

"I agree. Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade should know. I assume Mycroft already knows and if he doesn't, we must make him guess. As for Ms. Hooper... if you wish to tell her, fine." Sherlock consented. Ariel smiled at him before giving him a tight hug. Pulling back, she rested her forehead against his.

"Right. Thank you." She said before pecking his lips. They sat like that for a minute before Ariel's stomach rumbled. She giggled and got up, pulling Sherlock with her.

"Come on, I'm starving." She giggled out as she tugged him up the stairs. Sherlock groaned, but rolled his eyes and smiled as he trailed Ariel.

XXXXXXXXX

It was about quarter past one when John finally arrived home. Ariel listened as he ascended the stairs. She carefully kept her gaze on her laptop screen as John pushed open the door.

"Hello." He said briskly before climbing the stairs to his room. Ariel turned from her spot on the sofa to watch him climb the stairs. His clothing was noticeably wrinkled and his hair was sticking up at all sorts of odd angles. Ariel smirked and returned to her laptop.

About five minutes later, John trotted back down the stairs and through the kitchen to the only bathroom in 221b that had a shower. Ariel sat contentedly, working on her laptop. She was not surprised when less than ten minutes later, John came back into the living room, towelling his hair, but otherwise, completely dressed.

"Where's Sherlock?" He asked, sitting down in his armchair and grabbing his own laptop.

"In his room doing experiments." Ariel said, not even looking up at him. John nodded in understanding, even though it was only for his benefit.

"So the date went well, I take it?" Ariel asked, still typing away.

"Yeah. Skye's a brilliant and beautiful girl." John said, smiling to himself. "How about you and Sherlock? What did you two get up to?"

"Not much. Chinese takeaway, some crap telly, some chat. Nothing to interesting." Ariel responded. John hummed in acknowledgement. They fell into a comfortable silence.

A half hour later, neither of them had moved nor had there been any noise from Sherlocks bedroom. John got up and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. As he was standing in the kitchen, he realized just how quite Sherlock had been.

"Ariel? Did Sherlock tell you what he was working on?" John asked as he re-entered the living room. Ariel looked up from her laptop at John.

"No. Just that he was working on some experiments." Ariel replied. John furrowed his brow. Maybe he was just being overbearing, but something didn't seem right.

"I'm just going to go check on him." John said. He walked the few short paces to Sherlocks room and knocked lightly.

When there was no answer, John pushed the door open. He entered to find Sherlock sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed, eyes closed and hands clasped in front of his face. As the light from outside the room hit his face, Sherlocks eyes flew open and looked up at John.

"What is it?" He asked in his usual annoyed tone.

"Just checking up on you. You were being awfully quiet." John explained with a fond chuckle. Sherlock just glared at him.

"Well I'm fine. Now leave. I was right in the middle of something very important." Sherlock said curtly. John nodded.

"Yeah. Okay." With that, he closed the door and returned to the living room.

He shook his head. Maybe he was just worrying to much. Maybe he was feeling guilty for neglecting Sherlock lately. But something in John said that something was wrong with Sherlock. But of course, he had no proof. John just shrugged it off and poured himself tea. He walked back into the living room.

"Ariel, had Sherlock seemed a bit odd lately?" John asked, sitting back in his armchair.

"No more than usual." Ariel replied. "Why?"

"No reason. It's probably just my brain. Still jet lagged." John made up an excuse. It was, after all, the most probable situation. Ariel just nodded, before getting up to make herself some tea.

When she came back, John and her settled into a normal discussion about his date last night, the weather forecast, sports and pop culture. They eventually ended up talking about movies that would be coming out in the cinema that week.

"I really want to go see that new movie called "The Memory's Eye". It looks so interesting!" Ariel said excitedly.

"Oh yeah. The one about the CIA agent who gets kidnapped and her partner attempts to save her. The one about the mob?" John attempted to illuminate. Ariel giggled.

"Yeah, that one. Looks like it could be interesting." She said. "I wonder if... Never mind."

"What?" John asked.

"I wonder... Do you think it would be interesting enough to get Sherlock to sit through it?" Ariel asked John. The doctor considered it for a moment.

"Honestly? I wouldn't count on it. But you never know with him." John responded.

"Alright." Ariel said with a sigh. Sherlock sat back against the wall, his little bit of spy work done. So that's what he could do with Ariel. The cinema definitely wasn't his first choice, but it seemed to be something she was interested in.

Sherlock grabbed his laptop and searched the movie title. He read the short synopsis. It didn't look to incredibly dull. At least Ariel had good taste. She'd pick an action movie with a twist of mystery. Sherlock looked up the showings at the local cinema. It was on tonight, in fact.

He spent a moment considering before purchasing two tickets only. That was that. No to ask Ariel. Sherlock waited until he heard John talk about needing milk again and him shuffling down the stairs before he bounded out of his room, an excited schoolboy grin on his pale face. Ariel looked up as he entered the room.

"There you are. Successful afternoon, then?" She said with a fond smile.

"Mmmm, very. Had some... very enlightening evidence come up." Sherlock said, still grinning. Ariel cocked her head at him.

"What's up?" She asked, putting down her laptop and getting up off the sofa.

"Oh, I was wondering if you cared to join me for an evening out." Sherlock asked, completely composed. Ariel gave him a curious look.

"Where were you thinking of going?" She asked, smiling.

"I believe it is a common thing to go to the cinema on ones first date." Sherlock said, simply. There was the ever present distaste for all things 'ordinary people' did in his tone. Ariel chuckled lightly.

"Very common date idea. However, you are not a common man. Why would you want to go to a cinema?" She asked. She couldn't deny that she liked the idea, but something was odd about Sherlocks proposition.

"Because I thought you'd want to." Sherlock stated. Then, in a low growl, he whispered in her ear, "And I like making you happy." Ariel couldn't help the small sigh that escaped her lips. She smiled up at Sherlock.

"Alright. It does sound like fun. Any particular movie?" She asked. Sherlock chuckled.

"I believe it is customary to let the woman choose." He replied. Ariel giggled.

"Well, there is a movie I'd like to see..." She began, but then something clicked. "Wait a second, you're not taking me to a movie because I told John I wanted to go, are you?"

Sherlock somehow managed to look shocked while still remaining completely composed. He furrowed his brow.

"It must just be coincidence. I thought of it before. Plus, I did not hear you say anything about the cinema to John." Sherlock reassured her. Ariel smiled. She could tell he was lying, but decided it would be best if she just went along with it.

"Ok. The cinema tonight. It's a date." Ariel said, taking one of Sherlocks hands in hers.

"It's a date." Sherlock echoed. A smirk played at his lips.

Well, what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Curious to see how the movie goes? Follow, favourite and review, please! You'll make my day!

 

!SPECIAL NOTE!

Thank you so much to thEcrEAtOr23 for the idea for their date! I promise you'll love the next chapter!


	54. Anything But Ordinary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Shout-out to thEcrEAtOr23 for this idea! If you have any ideas, please message them to me or leave them in the form of a comment!

Chapter LIV

Ariel waited patiently for Sherlock to come collect her. They had agreed that he would come get Ariel when he was ready to go. However, as Ariel checked her watch again, it was almost six o'clock. The movie started at half eight and they were supposed to go out for dinner first.

Ariel sigh. She figured Sherlock gotten sidetracked. Again. For a genius, he could be remarkably forgetful. Ariel grabbed her purse and slide her warm coat and shoes on before heading up the stairs to Sherlock and Johns shared flat. She knocked briefly before opening the door.

Sherlock was standing in front of the hearth, straightening his collar in the mirror above the fireplace. John was seated in his usual armchair, apparently talking to Sherlock. Ariel smiled as she looked at the two of them.

"Are we ready to go?" She asked, clutching her well worn bag in front of her.

Sherlock glanced at her in the mirror, before abruptly stopping and turning to face her. He drank in every detail of her, noting the deep purple skirt that clung to her knees and stuck out from underneath her black coat that hugged the curve of her hips. He noticed the way she had pinned her hair up, just slightly, and the shimmer of silver on her neck and ears.

As Sherlock studied her, Ariel studied him back. He was wearing what could only be 'casual' for Sherlock - a pair of black trousers with an ocean blue button down that reflected the colour of his eyes. No tie or blazer, but he looked absolutely fantastic.

"Of course. I was just on my way down to get you." Sherlock replied. Ariel giggled.

"I'm sure you were." She giggled out, smiling brightly at him. When she noticed Sherlock still staring, she twirled a bit, causing her skirt to flow out.

"What do you think?" She asked, enjoying the attention. Although, how can one not enjoy the attention of Sherlock Holmes? She wondered with a smile.

"I think you look beautiful." Sherlock replied, a small grin gracing his cupid bow lips. Ariel blushed lightly and giggled. She couldn't help it, Sherlock made her feel like a young girl.

"Are you two going to stand around all evening or are you actually going to go on your date?" John asked with a good natured chuckle. Only Ariel caught the faint blush that coloured Sherlocks cheeks for the briefest of moments as he remembered John was still in the room.

"We are currently on our way, John." Sherlock said, annoyed. Ariel laughed. Sherlock smiled at her and opened the door.

"Have fun you two lovebirds!" John called after them. Ariel smiled to herself as she headed down the stairs.

Sherlock, for all his quirks, had chosen not to wear his Belstaff coat. It most certainly wasn't because John had said that it wasn't a proper coat to wear on a date. Not at all.

But whatever his reason, he was donning a dark brown leather jacket that Ariel thought suited him quite nicely. It wasn't his big Belstaff, but it still looked oddly Sherlock. As they walked the few blocks to Angelo's, Ariel commented on it.

"Where did you get this?" She asked, pulling on one of the sleeves as they walked. Sherlock looked down to where her hand was connected with the soft brown leather.

"A gift from John. It was for my birthday last year." Sherlock explained. Ariel threaded her hand into his.

"I think it quite suits you." She said with a big grin. Sherlock grinned back as they walked hand in hand into Angelo's. They were greeted by the man himself.

"Sherlock! Hello!" His voice boomed as he shook Sherlocks had fervently. Sherlock gave the man a curt bow. Then the owner noticed Ariel.

"And the lady Ariel. How nice to see you." He said, taking her hand and giving it a gentle kiss. Ariel smiled kindly.

"Hello Angelo." She greeted him. The man seemed satisfied and he stood up.

"I believe you have a table reserved for tonight, yes?" Angelo said, his eyes sparkling.

"Yes, we do." Sherlock answered. Ariel couldn't help but think she heard the slightest crack in his voice.

"Right this way then." Angelo replied and led them to the table by the window.

This time, he didn't ask if they wanted a candle, because he simply went ahead and placed several on the table. Ariel and Sherlock ordered their meal, and settled down in silence. The meal went over well, with only one customer becoming upset with Sherlock.

Ariel had just smiled to the rude woman, agreeing with Sherlocks deduction of her, and then they were off in a cab. The cab ride was quite, except for the radio that played pop music. Come to think of it, Sherlock had been rather quiet that night.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?" Ariel asked, putting a hand over his.

"Of course I am. Why would I not?" He replied.

"Well, we are on an actual date, which you thought of to do, and you've been oddly quiet lately." Ariel explained. The detective just furrowed his brow.

"I'm fine. This date is because it is what normal couples do. And as for my silence, I have just been thinking." Sherlock answered. Ariel studied him for a minute, and then smirked to herself.

"Are you sure you're just thinking? Or have you been wondering what 'normal couples' talk about while on a date?" Ariel said with a smirk. Sherlocks brow furrowed further, though this time it was clearly out of frustration at being found out.

"The thought had crossed my mind." He scoffed. Ariel stroked his hand.

"It's ok to ask questions when you're unsure about something, you know." She reassured him. She felt him take a deep breath beside her.

"Is there something you wish to discuss?" He asked. She could tell he was uncomfortable, but at least he was trying.

"Well... What did you get up to today? What were you experimenting with?" Ariel asked. One sure fire way to get Sherlock Holmes to talk was to ask about his experiments. And talk he did. He spent the rest of the half hour cab ride explaining what he was doing. It was only when Ariel gently reminded him that they needed their tickets that he stopped talking. Sherlock dug out the two tickets from his jacket and presented them to the lady.

"Cinema four." She said in a dull tone as she ripped off the stubs. Sherlock escorted Ariel inside, where, despite his protests that they had just eaten, she insisted on getting popcorn.

"What's the point of going to the cinema if you don't have movie popcorn?" she had asked and Sherlock had rolled his eyes but caved in. Ten minutes later, the two of them were seated side by side with a bag of popcorn near the middle of the cinema.

They had to wait through ten minutes of commercials, through which Sherlock complained nonstop. Ariel managed to help him restrain his comments by making him whisper them into her ear. At least that way he wasn't disturbing anyone else.

Finally the movie started and they both fell silent, eyes fixed to the screen. They were barely through the first twenty minutes of the movie when Sherlock pulled out his phone and began texting. It hadn't bothered Ariel at first, as this was something Sherlock regularly did when he was bored. It was only when there began to be hushed voices complaining about the mobile that Ariel leaned over and whispered in Sherlocks ear.

"Would you turn it off? For me?" She asked. With a sigh and what Ariel could tell was an eye roll, Sherlock shut his phone off. However, that was not an improvement.

After that, Sherlock began vocally criticizing the movie, first in a low, mumbled voice in Ariel's ear and then rather audibly for the rest of the cinema to hear. Ariel tried to tell him to be quiet, but it didn't help. There were murmurings from the other viewers but nothing more until an intense scene at which Sherlock burst out.

"What?! This is bloody outrageous! It's so obvious that the bald guy was in the pay of the mob from the start! And that the woman is the one who shot Bill Paxton. Look at the burn marks on her hands! I'll bet you a fiver they catch her in the end, but with some other evidence. And it's not as if no one here know that the mob was trying to keep that woman and Adam apart because her father is a mob boss!" Sherlock raged at the movie, deducing the entire plot, flopping back in his chair, arms crossed.

There were several voices telling him to quiet down now, but he kept going, deducing about the girls tragic past and how she had been raised by her mother. Then two cinema attendants appeared.

"Sir, we must ask you to leave." The taller one said firmly. Ariel felt Sherlock roll his eyes beside her. She did try to stop him, but she couldn't stop the remark already flying through the air.

"Do you seriously believe two seventeen year old college drop outs can make me move?" Sherlock said with an amused chuckle. The shorter man cleared his throat.

"Let me ask you again, sir. We request that you leave." His voice was much rougher than the other. Sherlock laughed him off at first, but then a strong hand wrapped around his thin wrist and hauled him to his feet. Despite Sherlocks mix of indignant chuckles and protests, the attendant dragged him out of the theatre.

Ariel sighed and followed, led by the taller attendant. Ariel arrived outside the cinema to find Sherlock on his hands and knees on the pavement. She helped him up and he dusted himself off, shooting a disgusted look in the direction of the cinema.

"Well, that's another one." Sherlock mumbled under his breath.

"Another one, what?" Ariel asked, confused. Sherlock winced.

"Another cinema I'm band from. The third one too, actually." He explained. Ariel couldn't contain the laugh.

"Really? You were band from two other cinemas and you still thought it was a good idea to go to one?" She asked, giggling. Sherlock gave her a lopsided grin.

"Oh? And I suppose you didn't want me to take you out this evening either?" Sherlock teased.

"I never said that." She teased back. They laughed together for a moment. As it died away, Sherlock looked Ariel in the eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get us kicked out. I suppose you won't want to go out with me again." He apologized. Even though he was acting strong, Ariel could see the bit of fear that hung in the corners of his eyes.

"No, you're wrong. I loved tonight, even getting kicked out of the cinema. Because I got to spend it with you." She said with a sincere smile as she cupped his cheek. He nuzzled gently into the touch.

"You don't think that I acted foolish this evening?" Sherlock asked in a low pitch.

"Maybe a little." Ariel replied with a fond smile. "But I wouldn't love you if you were any different." Sherlock closed his eyes at her words and placed his own pale hand over hers on his cheek. They past a brief moment in silence, frozen forever and yet gone in the blink of an eye. Sherlocks eyes fluttered open before he spoke.

"Do we ever have to go to the cinema again?" He asked, and Ariel was overcome in a wave of laughter in which Sherlock joined in.

"Of course not. I don't think I ever could after tonight." She laughed. Sherlock chuckled.

"Thank goodness. I have no idea what I would have done if you had said yes." He said in his deep baritone. Ariel just smiled and took his hand.

They walked for a bit, just the two of them, along the streetlight lit pavement.

"What was tonight really about? " Ariel asked. Sherlock sighed.

"I wanted to take you on a ordinary date." He said, resigning to the truth

"Are either of us ordinary?" Ariel asked pointedly. Sherlock thought for a moment.

"No." He answered. It was true. He was a genius and Ariel... was anything but ordinary.

"Good. Because I don't want ordinary ever again. Because you are extraordinary and that's the way I want you to stay. My genius." Ariel replied, smiling. She leaned up a placed a brief kiss to Sherlocks lips.

Tonight had been a successful first date.


	55. Just an Ordinary Day

Chapter LV

Ariel awoke the next morning, a smile fixed firmly in her face. Last night had felt like a dream. She searched for conformation that it had, in fact, happened. She was all to relieved to find her coat, dress and purse from the night before tossed on the chair in her bedroom. And the movie ticket stub peaking out of her coat pocket. She fell back into bed, smiling at the ceiling.

Sherlock had been such a gentleman last night after the movie incident. He had walked Ariel right to the door of her flat, kissing her goodnight before allowing her to close the door. He hadn't spent the night, even though Ariel was tempted to ask him to. Truth be told, she slept better when he was beside her.

Ariel eventually dragged herself out of bed and dressed before making herself breakfast. She was just sipping on her morning tea when she heard a crash followed by some shouting coming from upstairs. Curious, she ventured up. Opening the door the barest bit, she heard John yelling at Sherlock for whatever catastrophe his latest experiment had caused. She decided she had better intervene.

"Morning." She called cheerily, opening the door all the way. Johns red face turned to glare at her, and Sherlock gave her a sky grin from behind his flatmate.

"What do you want?" John snapped, clearly not happy at the interruption.

"I was just coming up to check on you." She answered cheerfully, giving John a large, innocent grin. He huffed and unclenched his fists before running his fingers through his hair. Ariel turned to the kitchen to make tea, a sure way to calm anyone down.

"Honestly John, I don't understand what has you so upset." Sherlocks voice said as Ariel heard him flop into the armchair.

"How can you not understand?" John yelled back. "You nearly poisoned me!"

"But I had the antidote in the kitchen. Seriously, you wouldn't have been unconscious for more than thirty seconds." Sherlock scoffed off. Ariel carried the tray of tea things and newly brewed tea into the living room.

That's when she noticed the rather large puddle on the floor with shattered bits of a mug strewn in it. There was a sharp intake of breath from John and Ariel looked up to see him frightfully angry.

"John..." She said calmly, putting down the tea and walking over to calm him. She looked him in the eyes, something she fortunate enough to be able to do.

"John, calm down. Why don't you take a walk, yeah?" Ariel's voice penetrated the furious haze in Johns mind.

"Yeah. Yeah." He mutter out, grabbing his coat and leaving. As soon as the door to the flat closed, Ariel turned to Sherlock, hands on her hips and generally looking like a mother displeased with her child.

"What?" Sherlock asked, almost pouting.

"Why? Why did you have to torment John?" Ariel asked, returning to the abandoned tea and handing Sherlock a cup.

"I wasn't tormenting him, I was experimenting." Sherlock whined, taking his tea.

"Why did you try to poison him?" Ariel asked, taking her tea and sitting in Johns chair.

"Because it was an experiment!" Sherlock cried. "And no harm would have come to him, anyway. I have the antidote." He added, mutteringly. Ariel smiled fondly and shook her head. She got up and crossed the room, sitting on the arm of Sherlocks chair and leaning down over him.

"I believe you." She whispered before placing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. She smiled before adding, "My consulting five year old." Sherlock gave a scoffing laugh as Ariel moved away again.

They settled into comfortable silence as Ariel began cleaning up the broken mug and Sherlock moved to his microscope. It was about a half hour later that John returned, arms carrying several full shopping bags as he climbed the stairs.

"No one help me. I'm fine." He huffed out, clearly still irritated as he set the shopping down on the kitchen counter and began angrily putting it away. The walked hadn't done him any good then.

"John, could you come here a moment?" Ariel called. She had invented a small problem for John to fix to keep him away from Sherlock for a moment or two. John tromped into the living room, giving a small glare at Ariel for being in his chair. She quickly put him to work. She handed him her laptop.

"The tray is stuck. Do you think you could fix it, John?" She asked kindly, perhaps with a bit to much of the 'damsel in distress' tone. John rolled his eyes and took it from her as Ariel scampered off into the kitchen. It should take John no more than five minutes to fix her little problem and it should take less than half that to have a small discussion with Sherlock, now that he'd cooled down.

Ariel perched on the edge of the table next to Sherlock, looking down on him and purposefully turning the dials out of focus. He looked up at her, annoyance in his crinkled brow.

"Apologize to John." Ariel whispered. Sherlock scoffed.

"Why should I? I did nothing wrong." He retorted, though surprisingly he kept his voice low. Ariel sighed.

"You did try to poison him this morning for an experiment. Without his permission or foreknowledge." She explained. Sherlock studied her a moment before he responded.

"Bit not good?" He asked. Ariel's heart ached at that. He both looked and sounded like a child trying to figure out right and wrong. He honestly wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, and that weak point of Sherlocks, if you could call it that, melted Ariel's heart. She put her hand lovingly on his shoulder and gave him a small smile.

"A bit not good, yeah. But nothing an apology wouldn't fix." She assured him. She felt more than heard Sherlock sigh. But he looked up at her and showed his consent by getting up and heading to the living room. Ariel trailed behind him as Sherlock stood in front of a confused and angry looking John. With a deep breath, he began.

"John, I wish to apologize for conducting an experiment on you which you believed would endanger your health without your foreknowledge or consent." Sherlock attempted, shooting at Ariel with a 'happy now?' look when he had finished. John shook his head, nearly laughing.

"You... Tried to kill me this morning... And you think a simply apology will fix it?" John was almost managing to contain the yell in his voice. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

"I said I was sorry, John." He said, flopping into his chair.

"But you tried to kill me!" John shouted across the living room. Ariel gave Sherlock a warning glance, telling him to simply bow out of this argument. He sighed, composing himself a moment before returning to the conversation.

"I know, and I am sorry you felt that you were in harms way. I shall not let it happen again." Sherlock stated. John was absolutely flabbergasted at this. He opened his mouth, only to shut it again seconds later. He repeated this motion several times until Sherlock couldn't stand it anymore.

"Do keep your mouth shut John unless you have something to say. You look like a dying fish." Sherlock commented. John smirked at the comment.

"Fine. Apology accepted, Sherlock. But don't think to do another life threatening experiment on me again." John warned, though his impending chuckle wasn't doing much to help take his comment seriously. At that moment, Mrs. Hudson's voice could be heard bellowing up the stairs.

"Ariel, dear! There's a man at the door for you!" She called.

"See you boys in a bit. That'll be the repair man I hired." She said as she headed for the door and hurried down the stairs. There was a lot of work that needed to be done.

XXXXXXXXX

Ariel had come up for dinner with John and Sherlock, of which Sherlock didn't even touch any of his food. John tried to bribe him into eating some of the meal he himself had prepared, but Sherlock wouldn't even have one bite. Ariel smirked to herself. Sherlock had never refused to eat her cooking and, on occasion, even complemented it. Halfway through dinner, John got a text from his newest girlfriend.

"Who's that?" Ariel asked.

"Skye. She wants me to go with her to this party tonight." John replied, trying to text at the same time. Sherlock rolled his eyes at the mundaneness of it all.

"Are you going?" Ariel asked, taking another bite of dinner.

"Yeah. Well, I want to. That is, if you two don't mind me leaving." John stuttered out. Ariel giggled and shooed his comment away.

"Of course not. Go have fun." She replied, smiling brightly. John gave her a boyish grin. Sherlock groaned. John laughed.

"Sorry, I gotta run. She wants me to pick her up. Sorry." John apologized, getting up and heading for the door. Ariel just giggled again.

"No worries. See you later." She called after him, hearing the door slam shut seconds later. Ariel finished her food and headed for the living room, beckoning Sherlock to follow her. She cuddled with him on the sofa as they watched crap telly for an hour or so, Sherlock yelling deductions out sporadically at the telly.

Afterwards, Ariel kissed Sherlock goodnight and headed to her own room, quickly feeling the length of the day settle on her eyelids. She had left Sherlock upstairs doing some experiments, most of which Ariel had decided she would prefer not to know about right now.

As she slipped into her nightwear, she thought about how long it had been since their last case. It had been almost a week since the last case had appeared and it didn't seem like any one Sherlock would deem worthy was going to appear soon. Ariel was worried about Sherlock.

He hadn't seemed bored yet, which was something that tended to happen two or three days without a case. Even with experiments, Sherlock should be getting bored by now. But he hadn't, and for some reason, that troubled Ariel. She lay down, pulling the covers over her as she settled down into bed.

Fragments of conversations she had over the last few months drifted through her mind. Mentions by Mycroft ("He's an addictive sort."), John ("Don't let him get a hold of any cigarettes."), and even an off handed comment from Mrs. Hudson when she had moved in ("I hope Sherlock doesn't have a stash down here.") had Ariel hitting a sudden realization.

Sherlock has a past of drug abuse! Her mind screamed at her. If she was completely honest with herself, this wasn't completely a surprise, given just how little she knew about Sherlocks past. Unfortunately though, this added just one more thing for her to worry about as she tried to settle down for sleep.

What if that's why his experiments had kept him entertained for this long? What if he was doing drugs in his room? What if he was upstairs getting high right now? The 'what if' questions bounced around in her head, tormenting her. Then, she finally had a rational thought.

If she had noticed Sherlock being odd, that meant that in all likelihood so had John and Mrs. Hudson. And if they weren't worried, then she shouldn't be either. With that calming thought, Ariel fell asleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Ariel woke to the rapid pounding on her door in the dark of her bedroom. As she sat up in bed, her bedroom door burst open revealing a very panicked looking John Watson.

"John! What's wrong?" Ariel asked, her heart rate already increasing as fear gripped her.

"It's Sherlock. Something's wrong." John said, far to timidly for the ex army doctor. Ariel leapt out of bed and followed John hurriedly up the stairs. Something was very wrong.


	56. The Addict

Chapter LVI

John ushered Ariel into the flat. She hurried over to the seated human being that was Sherlock Holmes. Although he looked like Sherlock, she immediately could tell something was wrong.

As she fell to her knees to look him in the eyes, she noticed he was lightly shaking. Tears seemed to be forming in his eyes, but he was fighting to keep them back. It appeared as though he were in shock, or fear, of something, though what that something was had yet to be seen.

"What happened?" Ariel asked, trying not to let fear and panic creep into her voice.

"I...I...I..." Sherlock stuttered through clenched teeth. John was still standing by the door as Ariel tried to talk to Sherlock, to get him to say something.

"Sherlock, what happened?" Ariel cooed as she gently touched his face and stroked his cheek just the way she knew he liked it. Sherlock sat there, faintly shaking, as he looked into Ariel's eyes. She was scared by what she saw there.

Fear. She saw fear in Sherlock Holmes' eyes. And the thought that Sherlock was afraid, this afraid, of something terrified her even more than her own fears and worries. Unable to get a response from Sherlock, she quickly turned to John.

"What happened to him?" She asked, almost angrily.

"I...I don't know." John responded defensively. "I came home a few minutes ago and he was sitting there like this." Ariel took a deep breath to calm herself.

"What time is it?" She asked in a facade calm.

"About half two in the morning." John answered.

Ariel took another deep breath. Unable to get an answer of what happened from either John or Sherlock, she began scanning the room, looking for any sign of what had caused Sherlock to act this way. And that's when she finally noticed it, the black sheep in the room.

Laying on the floor, just within arms reach of Sherlock but hidden from Johns view, it lay. The needle. Filled with a whitish liquid. Ariel didn't even grab it, but she moved in front of Sherlock again, looking at him. His eyes widened as they locked onto Ariel's, realizing she knew. Without turning her head, Ariel spoke in a slow, deliberate voice to John.

"John. Call an ambulance. Now." She said slowly, her tone forced into submission. John blinked in surprised.

"Really? Why? What's happening?" John asked, obviously panicked as he looked back and forth between both of his friends. He couldn't see any immediate medical signs that there was something wrong with Sherlock.

"John. Now." Ariel commanded, still refusing to look away from Sherlock. She was grateful that John still retained enough of his army training to do as he was told without being asked a third time. As soon as John was out of the room, scrambling to find his phone in his discarded jacket pocket, Ariel leaned closer to Sherlock, her hand lightly stroking his cheek again.

"Hey, it's going to be ok." She said, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

"I...d..don't..need..." Sherlock stuttered out as his fingers dug into the armrests in protest, knuckles turning white from the effort.

"Shhh." Ariel soothed, stroking his cheek again. "Just let me take care of you." She smiled reassuringly at him as she put her other hand in his hair, stroking it lightly. She leaned up to kiss his forehead.

"You need to relax. Can you do that for me? Deep breath." Ariel instructed, demonstrating what she wanted him to do. She felt him draw in a shaky breath as his eyes fell closed.

"And out." She instructed. His breath was just as shaky as it exited through his slack jaw. John re-entered the room, noticing the breathing exercise.

"Alright. Paramedics are on their way. Now, will you tell me what the hell is going on?" John all but yelled. Ariel pretended not to hear his question.

"Good. John, get me a blanket." She ordered. John moved into a defensive position as he tried not to yell at Ariel.

"What?" He managed in a choked out fashion. Ariel turned to glare at him.

"Blanket. Now." She ordered again. Then, as an after thought, added, "Please." John sighed and dashed off to Sherlocks room to grab a blanket. Meanwhile, Ariel kept Sherlock doing deep breaths as her hands worked swiftly to undid the first few buttons of his shirt, keeping him from feeling trapped in the clothing.

"Come on Sherlock, we have to get your heart rate down. In. Out. That's it." She said encouragingly. Sherlock, in all his panicked state, did his best to follow her instructions. John returned a second later, blanket in hand.

He gave it to Ariel, who threw it around Sherlock's shoulders. She hugged him tight against her chest a moment before wrapping the blanket close around him and kissed his head.

"What on earth is wrong with him?" John asked slowly and begrudgingly. Ariel turned and glared at him.

"You're a doctor. Observe the signs and make a diagnosis." She stated bluntly, turning back to the shaking man.

John gave a scoffing laugh. She sounded so much like Sherlock right now, it was funny. But laughter wasn't really appropriate right now. John looked hard, trying to list the symptoms. Shaking, incoherency, shortness of breath, increased heart rate... Of course. Stupid man. It could only be one thing.

"He's gone into shock." John said, though it was more of a question.

"You've finally caught on John. Well done." Ariel bit out sarcastically. John rolled his eyes at Ariel's back before the doctor in him kicked in.

"Right. Well... ummm... you've already done everything you're supposed to do." John said, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. He was cursing himself for not being the one to catch the signs.

"Are you sure he's a doctor?" Ariel asked Sherlock, though it was meant for John to hear. Sherlock was still shaking, but it was only slightly now and his breathing was becoming steadier.

"That's good Sherlock. Keep it up." Ariel reassured him, pulling away to check the time on her phone. She returned her gaze to Sherlock, smiling reassuringly.

Seconds later, the sound of sirens was heard outside on Baker Street and seconds after that, three ambulance attendants trampled into 221B. As they headed for Sherlock, Ariel carefully grabbed the abandoned needle, hiding it in the pocket of her hoodie for the time being. Nobody even noticed, the occupants of the flat focused on Sherlock.

Ariel and John did their best to assist the attendants and Ariel rode to the hospital in the ambulance, hand clutching Sherlock's reassuringly. John followed behind in cab. Less than two hours after John had rudely awoken Ariel, she sat beside Sherlock as he lay in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and medicines that Ariel tried not to think about.

What she concentrated on was gently stroking his hand, always keeping some kind of contact with him. She knew if Sherlock were more himself, he would refuse such constant touching, but he wasn't himself and therefore Ariel felt it necessary, both for his benefit and hers, that she keep up the contact.

Sherlock seemed to be on a mild sedative, though why Ariel was still unsure of. John entered the room a few minutes later and was quickly followed by Mycroft. Ariel suddenly sat up straighter.

"Ms. Hunt." Mycroft greeted her, though the tone said he was not happy in the slightest.

"Mycroft." She returned the greeting in the same grim manner.

"John? What do the doctors say?" She asked in a more pleasant tone.

"Shock. Probably, given the circumstances, brought on by a panic attack. But I don't see what would have caused bloody Sherlock Holmes to have a panic attack." John said, confused. Ariel sighed. She had rather hoped that she wouldn't have to do this.

"Does it matter what caused it? It happened, can't we just move on?" Mycroft said dismissively. Ariel both hated him for his lack of concern for his own brother and silently thanked him for interrupting. John looked at Sherlock's brother in disbelief.

"Yeah, it kinda does matter. So we can stop this happening in the future!" John yelled. His sudden outburst caused Sherlock to stir a bit. Ariel sent the men a warning glance.

"You two, out. Now." She ordered, her voice deadly low. Mycroft looked like he was going to argue, but John's retreat prompted him to do the same.

The door closed with a loud snap and Sherlock stirred even more. A moment later, his eyes flickered open. Ariel gave him a big smile as she gripped his hand.

"What happened?" He asked, his words slightly slurred by sleep and the sedative.

"You had a panic attack which lead to you going into shock and ending up in the hospital." Ariel summarized. Sherlock blinked at her, confused. He processed this information for a second before he looked up at her, eyes wide. Ariel couldn't help but think how much like a frighten child he looked.

"You know why this happened, correct?" He asked, assuming his mask of indifference.

"I found the needle, if that's what you mean." Ariel said with a pitying smile. Sherlock went stiff.

"Who knows?" Sherlock asked.

"Just me. John didn't see it and I haven't told anyone else." Ariel assured him. Sherlock seemed to relax at that. At least, until he noticed the hurt in Ariel's eyes.

"What?" He asked.

"Why? I know you have a history of drug abuse, but why now?" She asked. This wasn't how she wanted to have this conversation, but it needed asking.

"Because I was bored." Sherlock answered quickly, trying to dismiss the conversation.

"Are John and I not enough for you anymore?" Ariel asked quietly. Sherlock searched her face for a moment, seeing the wall she put up to protect her feelings from him. That hurt Sherlock, that she didn't trust him to see what she was feeling right now.

"That wasn't why." Sherlock said softly. Ariel nodded slowly.

"Next time, just tell me that I'm boring." She said, pulling her hand away from his. Sherlock saw the hurt in her eyes.

"I didn't take any of it. You saw that." Sherlock tried, reaching out and taking her hand.

"Yeah, but you were going to." She whispered. Sherlock couldn't think of a time he had seen her look more hurt. A part of him ached to hug her, touch her, even though he wasn't sure why. These urges were still new and rather lost on him.

"It's part of who I am. An addict. I replaced the drugs with cases. But when there aren't any cases..." He let the sentence hang in the air, the remainder of it clear.

"Sometimes, I'm able to fight off the craving, the addiction. Other times, it's not so easy. Mycroft calls them 'danger nights'." He continued.

"If you would have told me you needed me, I would have stayed up with you. Helped you. Protected you." Ariel said softly, tears threatening her eyes but being kept at bay. Sherlock tentatively lifted his hand up to her cheek, stroking it softly.

"I didn't know how to ask." He whispered.

Ariel nuzzled his hand and closed her eyes to fight off the tears. The combination of lack of sleep, stress, trauma and the emotion of the situation was making it hard to fight the tears. She opened her eyes after a moment.

"You just have to say you need me. Sherlock, I would do anything you ask of me, but you have to ask." Ariel whispered back. Sherlock nodded. He understood.

"You have to understand something. I'm an addict who now gets his high from danger and puzzles instead of drugs. It is something you will always have to deal with." Sherlock said seriously. Ariel smiled sweetly at him as a single tear stained her face.

"I'm willing to fight for us, and save you from yourself everyday, if it means I get to spend forever with you." Ariel said. Sherlock smiled. He liked how that sounded. Forever.


	57. Hero or Human?

Chapter LVII

John and Mycoft returned to Sherlocks room about fifteen minutes later. Ariel looked up at them tiredly as they entered. Sherlock was very much awake and more than a bit annoyed.

"John, can you get me out of here?" Sherlock asked, annoyed. Ariel sighed.

"I've tried to tell him this is necessary." She said exasperatedly.

"Sherlock, the doctors need to run some more tests before they can release you." John explained. Sherlock rolled his eyes and flopped dramatically back onto the bed.

"Sherlock, it won't be for much longer. And think how mummy will worry if you don't have the tests done." Mycroft said in a tone an adult uses with young children. Sherlock scowled at his brother.

"Go away Mycroft." He retorted. Mycroft cocked an eyebrow at his brother as he leaned on his brolly, though the look was lost on Sherlock as the younger Holmes was lying down staring at the ceiling.

"Not until all the tests come back. Then, and only then, shall I get out of your way, brother mine." Mycroft responded patronizingly. Sherlock groaned, tossing an arm dramatically over his face.

John rolled his eyes at the brothers antics and walked over to Ariel. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he spoke to her.

"You've been sitting here for two hours. Why don't you go stretch your legs and grab a nice cuppa?" He offered. Ariel smiled up at him before looking at the pouting Sherlock.

"I think that's a good idea." She replied, pulling her hand away from Sherlock as she stood up. The moment she with drew her hand, Sherlock moved his arm to look up at her, eyes confused and pleading.

"I'm just going to go get a coffee Sherlock. I'll be right back." She said with a sweet giggle. Ariel then turned to John.

"Would you be kind enough to show me the way?" She asked.

"Yeah sure. Come on." John responded with a bit of a smile. As soon as they were out the door, the conversation began.

"Did you find out anything about what happened to him?" John asked. Ariel had been by Sherlock's side since the whole ordeal started. She was the only one who knew what happened to him. Ariel nodded weakly at Johns question, keeping her eyes fixed in the ground ahead of her.

"What do you know about his past?" She asked. John stopped dead in his tracks, forcing Ariel to stop and face him.

"You don't mean this had to do with...?" John trailed off. Ariel sighed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the needle, still full of the whitish liquid.

"I found it on the floor next to him in the flat. It looked like it had fallen out of his hand." Ariel explained, handing the item over for John to inspect. She wrapped herself in her arms, feeling cold in the clinical white hallway. John studied it for a moment before looking back up at her.

"You mean... He was doing drugs again?" John asked. Ariel could see the rage and hurt and confusion swirling behind his eyes, made all the more intense by lack of sleep and stress.

"No. He told me he hadn't taken any. But he was going to, and that's just as bad." Ariel said. John processed this as they started walking down the hall again.

"I'll have Mycroft do a sweep of the flat and see if anymore turns up." John sighed out, rubbing at his temples.

"I asked him why, and he told it's because of his addictive personality. He told me that as long as I'm with him, I'll have to deal with this kinda stuff." Ariel said quietly, more to herself than John. But his interest was piqued.

"And how do you feel about that?" He asked. Ariel laughed.

"We all have our vices. Your sister's, for example, is alcohol. Your's is adrenaline. Mine..." She trailed off, smirking to herself. She turned back to John.  
"It doesn't scare me, the addict. What scares me is the damage he could do to himself." Ariel explained.

John nodded. He knew what she was saying. They reached the hospital cafeteria, each getting a cup of bland coffee, but it did the trick for half four in the morning. Ariel leaned against a wall as she took a particularly long sip of coffee.

"You know, I used to hear about 'the great Sherlock Holmes', the man who could tell you your whole life's story with just one look. Of course, there was also the talk of his rudeness and arrogance, so that the overall picture of him was, well, a bit of a pompous genius. But you know, that's not all he is." Ariel said, her words darted with small giggles at memories. John listened to her and smiled.

"You're right. He's more than a pompous genius. He's an arrogant sod and an annoying dick as well." John added and grinned widely as Ariel bit back a laugh. She took a moment to calm herself down before she spoke again.

"Yeah, he's those things too, but he's more. He's..." She trailed off, searching for the right words. "He's so much more human than he leads on. He pretends he's so high and mighty, and yes, he is a genius but, when you get right down to it, he's so incredibly human." She finished, wonder and love in her voice. John smiled at her admiration.

"Yeah, he can be pretty human at times." John agreed, thinking back to the countless times Sherlock had saved his life. They stood there a moment, each in thought, before Ariel made a move to go.

"We should get back before they Holmes' boys rip each others throats out." She said, throwing her cup in the bin. John followed suit as they headed for the lift. As they rode the lift, Ariel turned to John.

"Please don't tell him I told you about the needle." She asked. John sighed.

"Yeah, fine. Alright." He consented. That's when the lift doors opened and they were walking down the unfriendly white hall again, headed for Sherlocks room.

They opened the door to see Mycroft seated in a chair, reading a newspaper and Sherlock sound asleep in bed. There was something wrong with this picture, and it wasn't Mycroft.

"How on earth did you get Sherlock to sleep?" John asked, sensing the same thing Ariel had. Mycroft didn't even look up from his paper as he responded.

"I had the nurse put him back on sedatives." The room went dead quiet except for the whirling of machines and the ruffle of Mycroft's newspaper. John's hands were curled into tight fists at his side as he tried to control his angry towards the older Holmes.

"Why?" Was all John managed to choke out.

"Because he needs to be restrained." Mycroft answered simply as he continued reading the paper. John looked like he was ready to punch Mycroft and honestly, Ariel was with him.

At any other time, Ariel would have been the rational one, preventing the impending fist fight. But at five in the morning with very little sleep and an already fragile emotional state, she wanted to beat Mycroft as much as John. Eventually the elder Holmes felt the stare that the other two were giving him and looked up confused from his newspaper.

"What?" He asked, his voice the perfect façade of innocence. Ariel sighed.

"Next time, don't drug your brother because he's annoying you." She explained, taking her spot beside Sherlock. She heard John take several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. A few minutes later, he began talking with Mycroft, who had resumed reading his paper.

"Do you think we should search the flat?" John asked casually.

"Mmmm. I've already sent men to do a sweep. They should complete their assignment within the hour. They will notify me if they find anything." Mycroft said, reading.

Ariel heard them, but didn't listen. She had her own thoughts to listen to. They were a whirlwind in her head, each screaming it's own unique idea at her. Thoughts of Sherlock sitting in his chair, needle poised and ready for injection, hovering over his arm. Others of him, doing god knows what in his room.

But occasionally, there would be one image that would dash through her mind. It was of him, yes, but it was so much happier. It was the memory of the night they spent kidnapped. Ironic though it had been, it made Sherlock reveal a side of himself Ariel was sure he had, but hadn't often showed. It was how much he cared.

When she had cried, he comforted her as best he knew how. When she explained her story, he listened and showed empathy for her situation. Heck, he even endured torture for her. Maybe he hadn't thought of it that way, but that's how she viewed it. The man that lay before her in a hospital bed meant the world to her and she would be damned if she ever let this happen again. It was a nurses voice that drew her out of her thoughts.

"Excuse me miss. I need to get by." She asked in a pleasant tone. Ariel snapped to attention and smiled at the young lady as she moved out of her way. When the nurse was finished, Ariel resumed her spot beside Sherlock, clutching his hand and brushing the one errant curl from his forehead.

When Mycroft's phone began to ring, Ariel shot him a death glare. Mycroft ignored her and answered his phone, exiting the room. A few minutes later, John joined the elder Holmes in the hallway.

"So, what was that all about?" John asked, eager for a distraction. Mycroft gave him a quick fake smile before returning to his mobile.

"Just some personal business." Mycroft answered. John hummed in acknowledgement. Mycroft tapped away on his phone for a moment before he spoke again.

"If you have something to say Doctor Watson, please say it." He said, all pretences of friendliness dropped. John sighed, steeling himself as he found the right words.

"Right. Well, I suppose you know about your brother's relationship." John started. Mycroft cocked an eyebrow at the doctor.

"Of course. I knew the moment it happened." Mycroft said dismissively.

"Right. Anyway, I was just curious to know what you thought of it?" John more or less asked Mycroft. The elder Holmes gave a small smile.

"Sherlock is hardly a child. He has the right to choose his own path. However, if you are asking my opinion of Ms. Hunt, which I believe you are, I will tell you that I could think of no one who would be more compatible for my brother." Mycroft explained.

"Really? Why?" John asked, curiosity peaked.

"Well, she is one of the most complex women I have ever met. Yet, even with her history, she is complementary for my brother. I only hope he doesn't drive her away." Mycroft remarked. Just as John was about to ask another question, Mycroft's mobile rang again.

"Sorry, I must take this." He said, walking further down the hall as he answered. John smirked at his back before returning to Sherlock's room. Ariel was still stroking his hand, but Sherlock was now awake and the two of them were talking. As soon as John closed the door, Sherlock looked up at him.

"How much longer, John?" He asked. John blinked, mind racing.

"Sorry, what?" The doctor asked, confused. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"How long until they release me?" The man in the hospital bed ask in a mockingly slow tone. It was John's turn to roll his eyes.

"Sherlock, they release you when they release you. For now, just... cooperate." John ordered. Sherlock rolled his eyes again and flopped back into bed. It was another hour before the emergence ward's doctors came in.

"You're free to go Mr. Holmes. I'll just need someone to sign the release forms." He said. Before either John or Mycroft could take the clipboard the doctor held, Ariel snatched it and scribbled her name on the forms. As she handed it back, she got a pair of curious looks, but nothing was said as Ariel help Sherlock out of the bed and out of the hospital.


	58. Opening Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silverlining101 This is for you!

Chapter LVIII

"Sherlock, sit down!" Ariel commanded him as she pushed him back into his chair. The great detective was being particularly negligent of his health after his trip to the hospital, and Ariel was determined to make him take better care of himself, starting with eating lunch.

"I'm not hungry!" Sherlock responded, pouting like a five year old.

"I don't care. Eat your food or you're not allowed to do any experiments for the rest of the day." Ariel said frustratedly. Sherlock looked angrily at her, but he picked up his fork and picked at his food. Ariel sighed. Finally. She thought.

She busied herself with cleaning the kitchen, watching Sherlock and making sure he was still eating. John had been called into the surgery to work today, so that left Ariel to care for the ever moody Sherlock. Ariel finished scrubbing at a particularly hard dish and sighed as she put it away. She felt Sherlock looming behind her.

"I'm finished." He said in a voice to quiet for him. Ariel turned to him, smiling as her eyes fell on the empty plate. She took it from him and began washing it. He stood there, watching her for a minute.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, taking a step closer. Ariel put down the dish and look up at Sherlock, giving him a tired smile.

"I'm fine. I guess I'm just thinking." She said, drying her hands. Sherlock looked at her.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked. Ariel leaned against the counter top.

"You. Why you would have taken that needle. How I could have stop it. What I should have noticed was wrong." Ariel explained, fiddling with her hands.

"It wasn't your fault." Sherlock responded, not sure how to deal with Ariel. He had never had anyone act like this, someone who cared about him was hurt by what he did. And wasn't angry or yelling at him. It was strange, he felt like he should help her, but he didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"I know. But I should have seen the signs. I thought I was more observant than this." Ariel replied with a sad laugh. Sherlock was still studying her, eyebrows furrowed in thought. There was another pause.

"Explain to me why you care so much about something that didn't happen." Sherlock asked. Ariel looked at him with sad eyes.

"I care about you Sherlock. More than I care about anyone else. I love you, and want you to be safe and happy. I care about the drug thing because I should have been there for you when you needed me, but I failed." Ariel explained, looking at her hands as she was unable to look at Sherlock. He noticed and gently lifted her head to meet her eyes.

"You didn't fail me. You were there when I needed you." He said, trying to comfort her. She smiled and hugged him. After a moment of surprise, Sherlock hugged her awkwardly back. After a long moment of holding each other, Ariel pulled back.

"There is one thing that I don't understand." She said. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"And that would be?" He asked.

"Why did you have a panic attack?" She asked, looking into his eyes. Sherlock tensed as the memories rushed back into his head.

"It's ok, Sherlock, you can tell me." Ariel said soothingly as she stroked his cheek. Sherlock's eyes refocused on her.

"Before I discovered cases, I was a drug addict. Even in the subsequent years, I did drugs when cases were scarce or dull. There are memories from those times which are... difficult for me to handle. They terrify me." Sherlock admitted. Ariel gave him a sympathetic look before pulling him closer and burying her head in his chest.

"Thank you." She whispered after a moment.

"For what?" Sherlock asked, confused. Ariel pulled back enough to kiss him lightly on the cheek and looked him in the eyes.

"For sharing that with me. I know how hard it is to tell someone your deepest problems after relying on yourself for so long." Ariel said, smiling slightly. Sherlock smiled back. Even though he had never thought of it that way, he agreed. It was very true. They were standing in the kitchen in silence when John arrived home.

"John." Sherlock greeted his friend as he pushed open the door and shed his coat. John gave a tired grunt in response before sinking into his chair.

"Bad day?" Ariel asked from the kitchen. She watched as John scrubbed him face and sighed heavily.

"Yeah. Long too." He said. Ariel caught Sherlock studying their friend, ready to make a deduction. He caught her watching and looked at her. She shook her head, mouthing a simply 'no' before Sherlock relaxed in his chair.

"Can I get you some tea?" Ariel asked sweetly.

"Yeah. Thanks." John answered. Ariel retreated to the kitchen to put the kettle on, prepping the cups and such for tea, when there was a knock at the door. Turning to Sherlock, Ariel sent him a questioning glance, but he didn't seem to have an answer for her. John let out a low groan.

"Who on earth could that be?" John asked grumpily. Sherlock stood and walked over to the door. Ariel watched as he cracked it open, just enough to see the faces behind it. Before they could say anything, Sherlock slammed the door, leaning against it to prevent the guests from gaining entrance.

"Who bloody is it, Sherlock?" John asked, torn between what was obviously a headache and his normal hospitable nature. Sherlock's eyes were slightly wider than normal.

"It's my parents." He said quietly. John turned in his chair to join Ariel in staring at him.

"Well let them in! For gods sake Sherlock!" John all but shouted at the detective as he made his way up to his room. The last thing he needed to deal with right now was more Holmes'.

With a sigh, Sherlock opened the door again, this time all the way, and Mycroft strode gracefully into the flat. Behind him came two more people, who were an older couple and quite obviously Sherlock and Mycroft's parents. Ariel hide in the kitchen, just out of view from most of the company filling the flat.

"Hello Sherlock. How have you been dear?" Mrs. Holmes asked sweetly to her youngest son. The man simply responded with a muffled 'fine' as he turned to his chair and flopped unceremoniously into it. The older Holmes' sat on the sofa, leaving Mycroft to sit across from his brother in John's armchair. There was a rather awkward silence for a number of seconds before Mycroft broke it.

"Sherlock, Mummy and Papa are here to talk to you." He said, his voice sounding stern and yet somehow gentle. Sherlock gave his brother a death glare before his father cleared his throat.

"Sherlock, Mycroft has informed us of your most recent trip to the hospital. We are simply here to check up on you." Mr. Holmes stated. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine. It was an accident and I am perfectly alright." He insisted.

"If you were perfectly alright, you wouldn't have been in hospital, now would you?" His mother scolded. Sherlock groaned. There was another awkward pause before Mrs. Holmes started to speak again.

"Your health isn't the only reason we're here, though it is the most important." She said, sitting up straight. She had paused for her husband to say something, and elbowed him gently when he didn't speak up.

"Right. The annual family reunion is in a weekend. You and your brother, along with any friends either of you wish to bring, are invited." Mr. Holmes explained. He then gave a stern look to the youngest Holmes boy. "And I want you to be there." Sherlock looked utterly appalled at the idea of having to attend a family gathering.

"No. Absolutely not." Sherlock huffed out.

"Sherlock, your aunt Marie hasn't seen you in years, not to mention the rest of the family. They just want to see you and hear from you." His mother pleaded.

"No! It's not my fault they're all idiots!" Sherlock screeched. Mr. Holmes stood up, an imposing fatherly figure to his youngest son.

"You will be there Sherlock." He stated firmly in such a stern tone that it made the room fall silent. There was no room to argue with him. Sherlock had been ordered to attend, and all in the room could see that Sherlock Holmes would attend, wether he wanted to or not.

The consulting detective gave an all mighty sigh, crossed his arms, and proceeded to pout like an unhappy five year old. The room fell into yet another awkward silence.

That is, until the kettle boiled. Then all eyes looked towards the kitchen, and subsequently, the girl who stood in the doorway. Mrs. Holmes' expression turned instantly soft and Mr. Holmes gave her a grin as he sat back down. Mycroft dismissed her, and Sherlock... Well, the look Sherlock had on his face could only be described as horror. Ariel didn't find it hard to make the mental leap that he was horrified his parents would now tease him about her.

She gave a quick blush and dashed off to quiet the kettle, making a pot of tea and bringing out the tea tray as soon as she was done. Setting it down in front of the Holmes', Mr. Holmes extended his hand to her, and Ariel took it, blushing.

"Sherlock, are you not going to introduce us to your lovely friend here?" Mr. Holmes said, placing a gentle kiss on Ariel's hand that made her cheeks go a deeper shade of red. Sherlock huffed from across the room.

"I'm sure she is capable of doing that herself." He answered. Ariel suppressed a giggled, shaking Mr. Holmes' hand.

"My name's Ariel." She said, withdrawing her hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Ariel." Mrs. Holmes said pleasantly. "I'm Margaret and this is Edward." She gestured to her husband. Ariel smiled brightly.

"A pleasure to meet you both." She said. Sherlock groaned from behind her.

"Ugh. Everyone saying it's a pleasure. How incredible dull." He continued in his sour mood. Mrs. Holmes took Ariel's hand, forcing her to lean down to hear her.

"I apologize for him. I don't know how he turned out to be so childish." Mrs. Holmes said.

"I can hear you." Sherlock commented from across the room. Ariel walked over and took a seat on one of the wooded chairs near the table. Mr. Holmes turned his attention back to his youngest son.

"So you will be there, Sherlock?" He asked. Although it was apparent Mr. Holmes was simply giving his so a chance to state his acceptance. Sherlock sighed.

"Fine." He said, still pouting. Mr. Homes gave a triumphant grin, one Ariel thought looked like his son's when he'd deduced something important. Mrs. Holmes turned to Ariel.

"Will you be accompanying my son?" She asked. Ariel smiled as she picked up her tea.

"If he wants me to, I shall." She answered. Then she realized the true nature of the question. "Although I'm not sure I qualify as a friend." Mr. Holmes gave her a curious look.

"What do you mean? You're obviously closely associated to him if you're in his flat making tea." Mr. Holmes said. Ariel smiled as Mrs. Holmes nudged her husband. She made a series of small gestures, facial expressions and single words until a look of understanding crossed Mr. Holmes' face.

"Oh." He simply stated. Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically and hid his face, though Ariel knew it was because of the small red blush threatening his cheeks.

"Well, love, I'm glad you're alright. Unfortunately, we have to be off. Your brother will give you the details for the reunion. See you at the party, sweetheart." Mrs. Holmes said lovingly to her youngest son before the three of them exited the flat. It fell into silence.


	59. I Will Always Be Here

Chapter LIX

Sherlock pouted the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening. John came down and grumbled about something or another, his headache obviously subsided as he ended up in a shouting match with Sherlock. Ariel had to intervene before John threw a punch.

The grumpy ex-army doctor took his dinner and retired to his bedroom with his laptop, intent on not coming down until morning. Ariel had sighed, now left to deal with the upset Sherlock on her own.

He had been curled up in his chair when Ariel sat down on the sofa with a heaping plate of food and flicked on the telly. At first, Sherlock had rolled his eyes and groaned as the theme music as a particular show came on, returning to the ball he had previously been in.

However, his sour mood was short lived, because before she knew it, Sherlock had curled up at the other end of the sofa stealing pieces of food from Ariel's plate. She smiled as his elegant fingers grabbed another piece of food.

"You should at least get a fork." She said with a small giggle. Sherlock rolled his eyes, but had gotten up and got his own fork. When dinner was finished, Ariel put the dishes in the kitchen to be washed at a later time and settled back on the sofa.

She had full expected Sherlock to start complaining about her choice in entertainment, but she was shocked when he shuffled closer. By the end of the episode, Sherlock had his head nestled on Ariel's thigh, her hand lightly stroking his tangled chocolate curls.

Commercials played while they waited for the next show to come on, so Ariel turned it down. For the first time since she told him to get a fork, they spoke, and it was Ariel who broke the silence.

"Are you alright, Sherlock?" She asked quietly, gently, as she ran her fingers through his hair. She felt Sherlock sigh beneath her.

"I really don't want to go." He mumbled. Ariel smiled down at him.

"I know. But it might be fun. And you can bring John and I. We will entertain you." She said with a soft laugh.

"John won't want to come. He'll find it boring. Plus, his new girlfriend might want him this weekend." Sherlock pouted, although he sound more sad than angry.

"Alright. But I'll come, if you want me too." Ariel said sweetly. Sherlock rolled so he could look up at her, his eyes wide.

"Really? You'd come to a family reunion with me?" He asked in disbelief. Ariel giggled.

"Of course. I'll even come as your girlfriend, if you ask." She said. Sherlock's eyes flickered away, eventually settling on his hands.

"You saw that?" His question was more of a statement.

"We all have things we don't want to tell our parents because we don't want to be teased about them. But believe me, avoiding them isn't the way to go about it." Ariel said softly. She gently lifted Sherlock's head so that his eyes met hers.

"I am proud to be your girlfriend. And I will always be there for you." With that she placed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Sherlock's eyes fell closed, completely enveloped in the moment. When they fluttered back open, Ariel was still gazing down at him, a warm smile on her face.

"I love you." She whispered, brushing the curls from his face. He gave her a small grin.

"I love you too, Ariel." He said. They laid there for a few minutes, simply enjoying the touch and warmth of each other as Ariel stroked Sherlock's curls, the telly forgotten. Eventually Ariel yawned, the strain of the day making it's presence know. Sherlock gave a knowing smirk before sitting up.

"Come on. To bed with you." He instructed, pulling Ariel up off the sofa. She giggled and stood, pulling Sherlock into a hug.

"Goodnight." She mumbled against his chest before pressing a soft kiss to his lips and moving to go downstairs. He stopped her before she could reach the door.

"Can you... can you spend the night? With me?" Sherlock asked awkwardly. Ariel giggled again, catching his hands in hers.

"Sure, love." She said with a tender smile before leading him to bed. Ten minutes later Ariel crawled into bed beside Sherlock, snuggling up to his side. Sherlock lay on his back, hands clasped over his chest as he stared pensively at the ceiling. Ariel shifted slightly, seeking a comfortable position. Settling down, she whispered into the darkness.

"What are you thinking about?" Sherlock blinked back to reality at her voice.

"Just trying to figure something out." He said dismissively, moving his arm to wrap it around her and she cuddled closer, humming.

"What?" She asked tiredly. Sherlock smirked in the darkness.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Now go to sleep." He replied. She yawned, as if to prove his point.

"Alright. Night, love." Ariel whispered. Sherlock stroked her hair once.

"Goodnight, Ariel." He said. He stayed awake for several hours thinking, although he kept track of Ariel's breathing pattern, making sure she was asleep and not having nightmares.

What Sherlock thought mostly consisted of her, although not in the strictest sense. He thought about what she had said, what emotions or motives were behind her words, but he mostly thought about his reactions to them. He had shared with her some of the most personal information he could about his past, and she had thanked him.

What made Sherlock think was how relieved and happy he had been to know she understood. That was also puzzling. Ariel understood him, his weaknesses, his faults. But instead of pointing them out, she accepted them and tried to help him with them. Sherlock lay awake, thinking of these things late into the night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ariel was the first to wake up. Not that it was really a surprise. She knew Sherlock well enough to know he probably had spent the better part of the night thinking about whatever it was he was busy with last night and that he probably would be out for a little bit. She carefully extracted herself from Sherlock's arms and quickly got dressed.

Walking into the cold kitchen, she closed the bedroom door behind her and putting the kettle on. She poured herself a bowl of cereal, sitting at the kitchen table. Ariel noticed Sherlock's mobile on the table. Nothing odd about that, so she dismissed it and kept eating.

Ten minutes later, John clattered down the stairs and into the living room. He was greeted with a quick shushing from Ariel as she pointed to the closed bedroom door. John nodded, quickly but quietly making his way into the kitchen. He got himself a travel mug and filled it with tea and then quickly grabbed an apple, making his way to the door.

"Where are you going?" Ariel whispered. John struggled to get into his coat with the items in his hands.

"Emergency at the surgery. Shouldn't be more than a couple of hours." He whispered hastily, slipping into his shoes. Ariel nodded.

"See you later John." She whispered. John gave her a brisk nod before rushing out the door. She relaxed as the room settled back into quiet.

But the quiet was short lived as mere moments later, Sherlock's mobile began buzzing harshly against the table. Ariel scrambled to get it, determined to silence it before it woke the sleeping detective.

As she looked for a way to shut it off, she noticed the caller. 'Mycroft Holmes'. Ariel sighed. It was obviously important for Mycroft to be calling, so reluctantly she answered it.

"Hello." She said, doing her best to sound pleasant.

"Oh hello, Ms. Hunt. May I speak with my brother, please?" Mycroft's voice came through, not a single attempt to hide the dislike in his voice.

"I'm sorry Mycroft, but your brother is currently in a rare state of comatose, and I refuse to wake him." Ariel answered, pleased with herself at how even her voice had come across. She heard the elder Holmes sigh on the other end.

"Very well. Would you be kind enough to pass along the details for the family reunion this weekend?" Mycroft requested in a near pleasant tone. Ariel grinned.

"Most certainly, Mr. Holmes. What shall I relay?" She asked, doing her best mock-Mycroft voice. She heard the man groan in response.

"Tell him I will send a car to fetch him at eleven on Saturday, as it is to be held in the country manner. Please add that unless he wishes to walk back to Baker Street, I suggest he prepare an overnight bag." Mycroft instructed. Ariel jotted down notes, keen to remember the instructions. There was a brief pause before Mycroft added,  
"And tell him to wear presentable clothing."

"Got it." Ariel hummed into the phone. Then a question crossed her mind. "What should one wear if they were to attend this event?"

"I presume Sherlock invited you. Going on that notion, Ms. Hunt, I believe it would be most proper to treat this as a formal event, though Mummy might deem it otherwise. Your best gown would be the wisest choice, as it is a favourite of our family's to have a dance." Mycroft explained. Ariel's face went from smug to horrified in under a second. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced herself to respond.

"Thank you for the advice. I shall let Sherlock know the details." She said.

"Good day, Ms. Hunt." Mycroft said.

"Good day." Ariel replied. She hung up before slumping back in her chair. Dancing? She thought. I can't dance! This was not entirely true, but as far as Mycroft had made it out, it seemed that it would be waltzes and other formal dances, not simply moving to the music.

And somehow, Ariel just knew that she would be put on the spot for dancing. What am I going to do? She thought, despairingly. Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe I'll be fine. That thought brought a small smile of hope to her lips. There was the smallest hope she would not have to be the centre of attention.

But that's when another thought crossed her mind. This one had her horrified. What if I have to dance with Sherlock? I'll make him look like a fool! She was not coordinated enough to dance on her own as it was, let alone with a partner. If she fumbled up with Sherlock, she would give his family something to tease him about.

Something about the thought of humiliating Sherlock, however accidental it may be, snapped something in her. She quickly, but quietly, dashed downstairs to grab her laptop. Coming back upstairs, she took a spot on the sofa, flipped open her laptop and began furiously searching the internet.

Ariel was pleased when she opened the first link, watching the couple on the video give step by step instructions on how to waltz. It looked easy enough. Great, only a hundred dances to go. She thought. Opening a new tab, she began another search. She continued on like this for an hour or so, until Sherlock stumbled into the living room.

"Morning." She said, looking up at him with a warm smile before diving back into her research. Sherlock flopped unceremoniously into his chair, bending in an almost inhuman way to scoop his laptop from the floor.

"Morning." He grumbled out. It was only about ten minutes later he realized Ariel hadn't said anything else. He closed his laptop to look at her.

"Are you ok?" He asked, carefully studying her. She looked up, closing her laptop in the process.

"I'm fine." Ariel answered. "Oh, by the way, Mycroft called. Said he'll send a car 'round at 11 on Saturday. Also, we should be prepared to spend the night." Sherlock groaned loudly in the quiet flat. Ariel walked over to him, sitting on the arm of his chair.

"Hey, it'll be alright. I'll be there the whole time." She reassured him, smiling.

"Let me make you some tea, yeah?" Sherlock gave her a half smile and nodded.

"Tea would be lovely, thanks." He replied. Ariel smiled and walked to the kitchen, putting the kettle back on and collecting the tea things. It would be a long week.


	60. Childhood House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, 60 chapters. I can't believe it. What started out as a small fic no one but me would ever see now has 60 chapters and 150 followers! It is truly amazing.
> 
> Thank you you to each and every one of you. You mean the world to me. :)

Chapter LX

The week passed by rather quickly, with Ariel taking dancing lessons from the internet as often as she could manage, and Sherlock growing ever more impatient for the day to come and be over and done with.

Saturday morning, Leigh climbed the stairs to 221b to find Sherlock already pouring over an experiment. From the looks of things, he hadn't moved since Ariel left him last night. She sighed, deciding against mentioning it as she walked into the kitchen. She put the kettle on before turning to Sherlock.

"Are you packed?" She asked nonchalantly. Sherlock didn't even look up.

"Yes." He answered under his breath. Ariel knew better than to believe that.

"Don't lie to me Sherlock. Is your bag packed for the weekend?" She asked again, firmer this time. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed as he looked up to focus on Ariel.

"Yes, I have. And if you persist on doubting me, you can check the bag on my bed to discover that it is, indeed, full of the required items for the weekend." He stated coldly.

"Sorry. I just wanted to make sure." Ariel apologized, although she knew she hadn't done anything wrong. She walked over to Sherlock as he returned to his experiment. She put her arms around his neck and kissed the top of his head. Sherlock gave a contented hum as he continued working.

"What are you working on?" Ariel asked, looking down at the white powder and red liquid mixed together on the Petri dish underneath Sherlock's microscope.

"I'm cataloguing the reactions of human blood with different substances. Currently, I'm testing the reaction between blood and high doses of calcium." Sherlock explained. Ariel hummed against his curls, just enjoying the feeling of Sherlock beneath her.

The kettle began to shriek and she reluctantly went to tend to it. As she was pouring the tea, John wandered into the kitchen.

"Morning." He said. Sherlock mumbled a response and Ariel handed him a cup of tea as she said her greetings. John had been informed of the party, but because he had already told the surgery he'd be available this weekend, he was unable to make it. John settled on a kitchen chair, sipping at his tea.

"When will Mycroft be here?" He asked, looking between the two.

"Eleven." Ariel answered, taking a sip of her tea. John nodded.

"And how long will you be gone?" He asked. Ariel shrugged.

"I would expect until tomorrow afternoon." She replied. John nodded again. They fell into a light conversation, the two of them, until the sleek black car pulled up outside. Sherlock checked his watch.

"Punctual as always." He mumbled, heading to his bedroom to retrieve his bag. Ariel gave John a hug goodbye.

"See you tomorrow." She said. John smiled.

"Take care of him, alright?" He replied with a chuckle. Ariel smiled and nodded.

"Come on Sherlock, or we'll be late!" Ariel called, slipping on her boots and jacket. They would arrive early enough at the country manner to change into their party attire.

Sherlock strode out of his room, a small suitcase in tow of his lanky form. Ariel gave him a smile as he put on his big Belstaff and black dress shoes.

"Have fun you two!" John called after them with a chuckle. Ariel gave him a small wave over her shoulder as she followed Sherlock down the stairs. She stepped outside, her overnight bag in tow, just as the driver climbed out. He took both Sherlock and Ariel's bags, and placed them securely in the boot before opening the door for them.

Ariel was half expecting to see Mycroft sitting in the black car, or perhaps his assistant. But to her delight the car was completely empty except for he driver. Without any delays, Sherlock and Ariel climbed into the waiting car and set off.

Hours later, most of which was spent in silence, they finally arrived at their destination. A large house surrounded by farmlands, it was a peaceful and unassuming looking place. Though it was quiet large, it was simple and modest and pretty.

Two stories tall with a large room attached that was quite obviously the ballroom, (Ariel couldn't think of what else to call it), in a beautiful mix of tan and cream with a stone pathway leading to the door and a large, well tended flower garden to the side. As they climbed out, Mrs. Holmes came out to greet them.

"Hello dears!" She called, walking up to them. She threw her arms around Sherlock, pulling him down into an awkward embrace and kissing his cheek.

"I'm so glad your here, Sherly." His mother said affectionately.

Ariel had to keep herself from snickering at the nickname, especially when it was paired with the mortified look on Sherlock's face. Mrs. Holmes turned to her next.

"And Ariel, right? Come here." The elder lady said, pulling Ariel into a warm embrace. When Mrs. Holmes finally released her, she lead the two into the house.

It was just as beautiful on the inside. Polished wood floors and wooden beams lined the spaces the cream coloured walls couldn't reach. Minimal decorations lined the walls and the furniture that was there was all a matching deep brown wood. It was spotlessly tidy and well organized, the complete opposite of Baker Street. Mrs. Holmes lead the pair up the beautifully carved wooden staircase to the second floor, which consisted of mostly what appeared to be guest rooms.

"Sherlock, you'll have to share a room with Myc." His mother said worriedly, turning to open a door. Ariel managed to jump in before Sherlock could make a snarky remark.

"Why?" She asked innocently. Mrs. Holmes turned to her.

"I'm just not sure there'll be enough room for everyone to have their own otherwise." She replied. Ariel just smiled.

"I don't mind sharing with Sherlock. Besides, it might spare us some brotherly arguments." She answered with a knowing wink. Mrs. Holmes nodded.

"Alright dear, if that's what you want." She said.

"Is no one going to ask me what I want?!" Sherlock shouted exasperatedly. They women turned to him. Ariel looked up at him.

"Me or your brother? Which do you want?" She asked sweetly. Sherlock huffed before mumbling a short "you", to which the party resumed their way down the hall of doors. Eventually Mrs. Holmes opened one, revealing an elegantly furnished room with more than enough space for the two of them.

"I hope this will work, dears. Once you're settled in, come downstairs for a cuppa. The party doesn't start till five, but I bet your hungry." She said before leaving Sherlock and Ariel alone. Ariel set her case down and sat on the edge of the bed, taking in her surroundings and the soft blue hue of the room.

"What are you staring at?" Sherlock asked grumpily as he set his bag down. Ariel smiled up at him as he took a seat beside her.

"I've just always found it interesting to visit someone's childhood home." She answered. Sherlock frowned.

"I didn't grow up here. Most of my life was spent at boarding school. What most would call my 'childhood house' is miles away. This was our summer house." He responded curtly. Ariel looked at him with big eyes, silently asking so many questions. Sherlock sighed before indulging her.

"My grandfather bought this place after the first World War. Him and his brothers had the house constructed. When he died, all of his children inherited it. They decided they'd share it, making it a vacation house as most of them had moved farther away. I was only three when we came here for the first time." Sherlock explained, eyes glazing over as memories flashed through his mind. Moments trickled by until Ariel gently placed her hand over his, bringing him out of his trance.

"Hey," she said gently, a small smile gracing her lips, "let's get some tea." Sherlock nodded and lead her down the stairs. In the kitchen, his mother was working, cooking a soup for the party and making sandwiches for an immanent snack.

"Ah, there you are. It'll just be a minute for the tea." Mrs. Holmes said as she fluttered around the kitchen. Sherlock's brow furrowed.

"Where's pa?" He asked, looking around. Ariel had to suppress a giggle at just how much like a child he sounded. His mother answered without turning her head.

"He's in the lounge, dear." Sherlock turned and headed into the lounge, leaving Ariel alone with Mrs. Holmes.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ariel offered the elder lady. Mrs. Holmes turned to her and smiled.

"If you want to help finish making these sandwiches, I wouldn't mind a hand." She replied. Ariel returned the smile and stepped in, taking over the sandwich making. There was a few minutes of silence before Mrs. Holmes put down her cooking utensils, sighed and turned to the younger lady.

"Alright, I must know. Are you dating my son?" She asked bluntly, a bit of excitement hidden in her motherly tone. Ariel giggled and blushed.

"I believe that's what you'd call it, although Sherlock doesn't like to call it something so ordinary." She answered with a grin. Mrs. Holmes' own smile grew wider.

"He can be a bit stubborn, can't he?" She said with a knowing look. "But I knew it. I knew the moment I saw you that you two would be good together. How long?"

"Sorry?" Ariel asked, smiling giddily.

"How long have you been a couple?" Mrs. Holmes repeated, flitting around the younger woman as she moved to help her with the sandwiches.

"Not long." Ariel answered. "But I'm surprised you didn't already know." Mrs. Holmes gave her a sad look accompanied by a sigh.

"Sherlock's not particularly good at keeping us in the loop. His brother is mostly responsible for keeping us up to date." She responded.

"I'm sorry." Was the only fitting answer Ariel could come up with.

"It's not your fault, dear. It's just him." Mrs. Holmes said with a grin. "Ah, there. The sandwiches are ready and so is the tea. Be a dear and take the sandwiches to the lounge, would you?" Ariel responded with a small smile before grabbing the tray and heading in the direction she had seen Sherlock go.

She eventually found her way to an open lounge with beautiful and delicate furniture that matched the rest of the house. Sherlock was sitting on a sofa across from his father, and it looked as if they had just finished an important conversation. Which, knowing Sherlock's usual array of facial expressions, could have been about anything.

Ariel set the tray of finger sandwiches on the coffee table between the two men, before sitting on the edge of the sofa.

"Ariel. What a pleasant surprise to see you." Mr. Holmes greeted her. "I hope you will enjoy yourself tonight." Ariel smiled politely.

"Thank you. I'm sure I will." She answered.

Mrs. Holmes popped in with the tea tray at that moment and fiddled with things to make room for both trays on the table. She grabbed one cup and walked over to hand it to her husband, whispering something in his ear. When she pulled back, a smile adorned Mr. Holmes' face.

The four of them sat in comfort, conversing on various topics about the house, the family and who would likely be in attendance tonight, when the sound of a car outside drew their attention.

"That'll be Marie and George." Mrs. Holmes said, collecting the dishes while Mr. Holmes went to get the door. Ariel moved to help the elder woman but was shooed away.

"You two had best go get ready. It'll only take me a minute to clean up." She said with a pleasant smile. Ariel nodded and tugged Sherlock along behind her as she headed back up to their room. Time for the show. Ariel thought with a giddy smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Silverlining101, who inspired the who party reunion idea.


	61. Are You Happy Now?

Chapter LXI

Sherlock paced the hallway for the fiftieth time. What on earth was taking her so long? Sherlock had quickly gotten changed into a purple silk dress shirt and black tie pausing only long enough in front of the mirror to straighten his blazer.

Ariel, however, was taking considerably longer to get changed. And Sherlock couldn't understand why. She had less items of clothing to change into and her makeup was already done. What was taking so long?

One more hallway length and Sherlock heard the door of their shared room click open. He turned and he felt his own jaw drop without his brain telling it to. Five feet away was Ariel, long golden hair pulled back ever so gently from her face and curled slightly, standing in a pair of simple, low black heels.

She was in a knee-length sapphire blue dress with an elegant gathering on the right hip and a light trail of sparkling trinkets across the chest. The colour of it highlighted her sparkling blue eyes almost as much as the thin black line of eye makeup did. And the nervous smile she gave him when they made eye contact made Sherlock loose every remaining ounce of control he had.

"What do you think?" Ariel asked, twirling her hips slightly to make the skirt of her dress flare. It took Sherlock a full minute before he managed to compose himself enough to answer. When he finally did, he somehow managed to look his usual cool self.

"You look beautiful." He replied, straightening to his full height and fiddling with the edges of his suit jacket. Ariel giggled softly as she took his arm.

"Thank you." She said gently as they walked down the stairs and into the ballroom.

There was already about thirty people there, although as Ariel looked around, she noticed that most were adults. There were five kids all around ten years old. Sherlock and Ariel stood near the door, mostly just looking, when Mycroft appeared.

"Good evening, brother." He greeted Sherlock in his normal business tones.

"Hello, Mycroft." The younger replied. Mycroft then decided to turn his attention to Ariel.

"And Ms. Hunt. What a pleasure to see you. And may I say that you look most lovely tonight." He said pleasantly. Ariel couldn't restrain the blush that made itself known.

"Thank you, Mycroft. It's good to see you as well." She replied. Her eyes darted towards the main floor, trying to avoid more awkward conversations with the elder Holmes boy. However, it didn't seem that the conversation would be over just yet.

"Have you met any of the family yet?" Mycroft asked, a smug smile on his face. Ariel turned back to Mycroft, forcing a smile.

"No, not yet." She answered. The older man gave an expression of mock surprise.

"I can't believe Sherlock hasn't introduced you to anyone. It seems he is being quite negligent tonight." Mycroft answered teasingly. Of course, Sherlock was standing beside Ariel and could hear every word his brother had said. The younger Holmes scowled at his brother, but before he could make a reply, Ariel stepped in.

"It's not his fault. We just came in, as I was having some wardrobe issues and your brother was kind enough to wait for me." She replied.

To any casual observer, it would appear that the two were having a completely civilized and agreeable conversation. But both Mycroft and Ariel knew how to add a venomous undertone to their pleasant words, and clearly Ariel was winning. It was now Mycroft's turn to scowl at the beautiful lady, before he quickly composed himself and forced a smile.

"My apologize. I was unaware of that situation." He acquiesced, but Ariel knew their battle was far from over. However, at that moment an elder lady in an elegant evening dress approached them, as if to change the ebb of the conversation.

"Mycroft! It's so good to see you!" She said fondly, throwing her arms around him. Mycroft stiffly returned the embrace before she let go and looked him over.

"Have you lost weight?" She asked. "You look amazing." It was hard not to notice the proud smile that Mycroft gave her.

"I have, thank you, Aunt Marie." He responded graciously. Aunt Marie smiled before turning to Sherlock.

"And Sherlock! I'm so happy you could make it. It's been a long time since I've seen both my nephews." She said happily, grabbing Sherlock in a tight hug and giving him a kiss on the cheek. When she turned to smile at Mycroft again, Sherlock scrubbed at the lipstick stain she had left on his cheek and Ariel did her best not to giggle.

"How is work you two? I never hear from either of you, and your mum never seems to know what's up!" Aunt Marie said with a hint of exasperation. Ariel could already tell from the few minutes she'd known her that Aunt Marie was a flamboyant and dramatic woman. Sherlock and Mycroft both answered her questions as best they could until she held up her hand and silenced them as she looked right at Ariel.

"I'm sorry, but I believe we have yet to be introduced. I'm Marie Poole, Margaret's sister. And you are?" Aunt Marie introduced herself. Ariel gave the woman a friendly smile.

"Ariel Hunt, Ms. Poole." She replied with an attempt at a small curtsy. Aunt Marie smiled.

"It's good to see a new face around here." She said to Ariel before turning back to Mycroft. "Is she one of yours? I know you had that brunette last time." Mycroft rolled his eyes but quickly resumed his pleasant demeanour.

"No, Ms. Hunt does not work for me. And if you are referring to Elizabeth, she is simply a coworker..." Mycroft began defending himself, only to be cut off by his aunt.

"Then who did she come with?" Aunt Marie asked, a look of confusion on her face.

"I came with Sherlock." Was the humble reply from Ariel's smiling lips. The elder lady looked shocked for a moment before a huge grin overtook her aging face.

"Sherlock, look at you! Finally with a nice girl on your arm. It took you long enough. You know, your uncle and I were beginning to think you were a fruit with that doctor you share a flat with." Aunt Marie cooed teasingly with a laugh at her own statement. The other chuckled along politely, though not with a hint of humour.

At that moment, a loud shout of "MARIE!" came from across the room, to which Aunt Marie decided she had to leave. Mycroft was then called over by his father, apparently to chat with his elder son, leaving Sherlock and Ariel alone again. Ariel let out a sigh and picked up a drink. Sherlock leaned in closer so only she could hear him.

"You happy now?" He asked, a hint of displeasure in his voice. Ariel smiled.

"Come off it. My family's no better." She replied.

"I thought you weren't close to your extended family." Sherlock retorted.

"Mmmm, no, I'm not. But that doesn't mean I don't know them." Ariel responded, sipping her drink.

"What is this? It's quite good." She said, looking into her cup.

"Ah, that would be the Holmes family punch. It does have a rather pleasant taste." Sherlock remarked. Ariel raised an eyebrow at him.

"What's in it?" She asked, taking another sip.

"Orange, cranberry and lemon juice, ginger ale, and usually a bit of brandy." Sherlock replied. Ariel giggled.

"Your family sure knows how to throw a party, huh?" She remarked. Ariel only had a second to enjoy the confused look on Sherlock's face before they were confronted by another friendly family member.

" 'Lockie, me boy! How are ya doin?" The man said with a heavy Scottish accent as he clasped one of Sherlock's lean hands in both his burly ones and shook it vigorously.

"I am doing quite well, Uncle George. And I assume you are doing well?" Sherlock answered in his distant tone. The man, Uncle George, let out a deep laugh.

"Aye, lad, I am." Sherlock's uncle responded, before noticing Ariel. "And look at the lovely lass ya got ther'." Ariel smiled at the complement as Sherlock looked over.

"Yes. Uncle, this is my..." Sherlock floundered for the right word. Luckily, Ariel was there to save him. With a sweet giggle, she extended her hand and said,  
"I'm Ariel. I'm a friend of Sherlock's." Uncle George took her hand and gave it a friendly shake.

"A pleasure to meet you. I'm George." He responded with a toothy grin. Ariel returned it. Uncle George turned back to Sherlock.

"Ya know, lad, if I were you, I'd make this pretty lass here more than just a friend." The elder man said with a wink and another hearty laugh as he clasped Sherlock's shoulder. Ariel had to hold back the giggle as Sherlock looked so utterly confused as to what to do. Fortunately for him, Uncle George was done teasing him.

"Ah, I guess I should go visit your papa. Haven't seen him since Christmas." He said, and with a wave, left them. As soon as he left, Ariel grabbed Sherlock's arm and towed him out the door and into a side hallway where they could converse in private. Ariel gave Sherlock a questioning look.

"What?" He asked innocently. Ariel crossed her arms and gave him a look.

"I know you're new to all this, but I have to know. Are we actually going to tell anyone we are a couple, or am I playing your 'friend' tonight?" She said with a sigh, dropping her arms. Sherlock considered her a moment, studying her.

"I would prefer not to inform anyone, however, I know that's not what you want." He concluded. Ariel gave him a serious look.

"I want you to be happy. I know you don't want to be here, but you may as well make the best of it. And I want to make sure you are enjoying yourself as much as possible. That's why I asked." Ariel said sweetly, placing a hand on Sherlock's cheek. "If you don't want to tell anybody, then I won't." Sherlock gave her a small smile as he placed a hand over hers. Ariel placed a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Come on. Let's go show your brother up." She said with a giggle. Sherlock smiled as Ariel lead the way back to the party. They came in just as dinner was being served, buffet style. Which at first had Ariel confused, as these people were all fairly posh, but after looking at the crowd again, she realized this was the most efficient way to feed them all. Not that she had any objections in the first place.

They found themselves seats at a table with two of Sherlock's adult cousins and a great aunt, and waited until most people had gone. Ariel stood to get food, waiting for Sherlock to follow her. When he didn't, she looked down at him.

"Aren't you going to eat, Sherlock?" She asked. Sherlock gave a dramatic sigh.

"I just ate mummy's sandwiches." He complained.

"That was two hours ago." She gently reminded him. He shrugged, not particularly caring.

Ariel sighed and went to get herself some food. She found herself subconsciously putting extra food on her plate for Sherlock and smiled to herself. She found it amusing to note that she knew Sherlock well enough to get him food even when he said he wasn't hungry. On her way back to her table, Mrs. Holmes stopped her to have a little chitchat.

"Sherlock not eating?" She asked, frowning. Ariel gestured to the heaping plate of food and two forks she carried. Mrs. Holmes smiled.

"You will be good for him." She said approvingly, before making to leave.

"Mrs. Holmes," Ariel started, "What happens after dinner?"

"Well, normally that's the dance portion of the evening." She replied with a smile. Ariel returned it and thanked her for the information before returning to Sherlock. She handed him a fork and placed the plate between them, mentally running through her dance lessons as she ate. She smirked when Sherlock began picking at the food.


	62. Would. You Care To Dance?

Chapter LXII

 

Ariel was quite pleased with herself when Sherlock finished off the last of their shared dinner. And she was even more pleased that Sherlock's relatives at their table kept mostly to themselves, choosing to ignore the couple. Although, there was a pang of sadness that ran through her, as it seemed that for the most part, Sherlock's family ignored him.

Sherlock remained outwardly indifferent to the lack of attention, but Ariel didn't miss the longing sigh he let out, perhaps even unconsciously, as he scanned the room. She placed her hand on his knee, gently reminding him that she was there.

Sooner than Ariel had hoped, Mr. Holmes stood and announced that the dancing would begin shortly. There was a rustle of hushed whispers and quick movements as most of the large family began preparing for the next event. Ariel felt the knot in her stomach tighten. How on earth could she pull this off? But she forced herself to calm down and just hoped for the best.

Soon enough, music began playing, an upbeat song that had a distinctly tango feel. Sherlock's great aunt looked at him from her spot across the table.

"Are you not going to dance, Sherlock dear?" She asked, a concerned frown on her face. Sherlock pointedly avoided eye contact with her as he answered.

"Maybe later." He mumbled. His great aunt seemed to accept the answer, getting up to speak with another one of Sherlock's aunts.

By this point, Sherlock's cousins had fled the table as well, and were currently joined with partners on the dance floor. Sherlock was gazing out at the dancers, fast steps and twirls, bright colours flashing in streaks. Ariel just sat there and watched him watch the dancers, and she honestly couldn't believe her eyes. Sherlock looked utterly sad and spellbound, like someone watching the saddest part of their favourite movie. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I love dancing." Sherlock said softly, as if to himself. Honestly, Ariel was surprised by this revelation, although she shouldn't be. Sherlock seemed to know everything, a walking super computer.

But it wasn't the fact that he knew how to dance that surprised her. No, it was the fact that Sherlock enjoyed it. Loved it, he had said. Because dancing was an expressive, emotional, and creative outlet that Ariel had not pictured Sherlock to be particularly fond of. But the fact that he was proved something to her; that he wasn't as detached and distant as he made out to be. And Ariel's heart broke for him, knowing that there had to be a reason he built those walls around himself to keep the world out. How lucky she was to be let in, if only partially.

"Then why aren't you dancing?" She asked gently.

"I don't have a partner." He replied distantly, his attention firmly fixed on the dancers. That was it. For all that mattered, the rest of the family didn't exist to her anymore. Ariel had made a decision and that was that Sherlock Holmes would not feel sad or lonely ever again. Pushing the chair out as she stood up, Ariel finally drew Sherlock's attention.

"Mr. Holmes, you are wrong. You have a partner right here." She said, a happy grin on her face. The look of pure excitement and joy on Sherlock's face made Ariel want to cry. But instead, Sherlock stood, held out his arm and asked in a most gentlemanly tone,

"Would you care to dance, Ms. Hunt?" Ariel's grin grew twice as large.

"I most certainly would, Mr. Holmes." She replied, taking his arm.

Sherlock lead them to the dance floor as the first song finished. Ariel had her fingers crossed it would be a slow song next, because that would make the steps a bit slower and therefore easier to do. And much to her relief, it was a rather slow song. A waltz, by the sound of it.

Sherlock guided her into position, his hand resting comfortably on her left hip as her left hand found it's way to his right shoulder. Their other hands clasped together and Ariel looked up at Sherlock, a sudden nervousness jolting through her. She felt Sherlock study her, and a gentleness washed over his face.

"Don't worry. I'll take it slow." He said in a low purr. Ariel felt herself smile at his reassurance, before she whispered,

"I've never done this before." Sherlock smiled as he took a step to the side, and Ariel mirrored his movement.

"I think you'll do quite well." He purred in her ear. Ariel's heart fluttered as she continued following Sherlock's graceful steps, in and out, side to side, back and forth, and then again.

It was only after a full minute of silence between them, and Ariel's full concentration being on reflecting Sherlock's steps, that she realized what step they were actually doing. Box step. She thought with an inward smile. One of the simplest partner steps she had learned, and she had learned it well.

Ariel started to actually just enjoy moving with Sherlock, being held in his arms with all the grace the man had. Sherlock flashed a smile at her as he deduced that she was enjoying herself, and Ariel couldn't have restrained the smile that twisted her lips even if she had tried.

As the song came to a conclusion, Sherlock gave her a gentle spin, pulling her in close at the end. Ariel wanted nothing more than to lean up and kiss the man she was so desperately in love with, but she knew he wouldn't appreciate her affectionate display in front of his family. Instead, she took a step back and gave a small curtsy.

"Thank you for the dance, Mr. Holmes." She said, her eyes twinkling with joy. Sherlock's own happiness reflected in his eyes as he made a low bow.

"The pleasure was all mine, I assure you." He said, smiling ever so amazingly with his delicate Cupid bow lips. Ariel wasn't sure she could keep herself from reaching up and kissing them, so she turned and said,

"I think I need another glass of punch. Care to join me?"

She heard Sherlock laugh behind her, no doubt knowing her reason for a hasty retreat, but he followed her to the drink table. Sherlock loomed over her as she poured herself another drink. She turned back around, watching the remaining dancers continue.

As she watched, she felt Sherlock studying her again and she forced herself to remain looking with a slightly happy gaze. After a long moment, Sherlock frowned.

"What?" Ariel asked innocently. Sherlock's frown deepened.

"I can't read you. It's annoying." He said, with an uncomfortable shift in his stance. Ariel couldn't hold back the giggle that escaped, which only caused Sherlock to look more frustrated.

"Sorry, it's just that, you can be so easy to confuse." She giggled out.

"I am not! Why am I? How can I be?" Sherlock questioned, even more frustrated.

"You are too! It's amazing how much a smile can hide." She said, an untimely smile making it's presence on her lips. Sherlock frowned impossibly harder.

"What are you trying to hide?" He asked in a low voice, laced in concern. Ariel took his hands in hers, gently comforting the confused detective.

"Why don't you tell me?" She whispered back, dropping the veil that clouded her face. Sherlock studied her, and understanding dawned on his face. But he didn't have time to confirm his deductions because Ariel was pulling him towards the dance floor yet again.

With a sweet little giggle from the girl, Sherlock found himself once again holding her in his arms, poised and ready for the next song to play. Sherlock didn't miss the rosy colour that painted her cheeks as the romantic piano piece began. Sherlock moved his hand, tilting her chin up to look into his otherworldly silver eyes.

She gave him a loving smile as they started the waltz, a beautiful array of footsteps playing in perfect time with the music. Ariel fumbled and blushed deeply, but Sherlock pulled her against him.

"Relax. Just look at me and let go." He whispered in her ear, a velvety vibration to her. Ariel did just as he said, and she felt herself moving in perfect harmony together again.

"I said that you could do it." Sherlock said with a deep baritone laugh. Ariel giggled and let him lead her gracefully across the dance floor. They were in their own little world, completely unaware of the people around them.

Much to Ariel's disappointment, the song ended, but they didn't break apart. Leaning up, she placed a chaste kiss to Sherlock's cheek. She didn't care who saw, she had to show Sherlock how much she was enjoying herself. Sherlock gave her a questioning look as she pulled away.

"Thank you." Was all she needed to whisper. Sherlock knew. He smiled, pulling her into a quick hug, making Ariel giggle. The next song started, a blare of horns and the beat of drums and shakers. Sherlock stepped back, holding Ariel at arms length.

"Do you know how to salsa?" He asked, a playful grin on his face, eyes lighting up.

"I can give it a shot." Ariel giggled out, and Sherlock positioned them for the first move. Ariel did nothing but giggle as they danced, as she was not nearly as skilled as Sherlock and therefore messed up numerous times.

Each time she fumbled through a step, Sherlock would smile encouragingly at her. Ariel knew she would cherish these small smiles for the rest of her life. They danced for what felt like hours until her feet began to hurt. Even then, a smile still graced her lips, still twirling across the floor with Sherlock.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was well into the evening, the few children already put to bed, when Mycroft sauntered up to Ariel, who was watching with glee in her eyes as Sherlock was having a forced conversation with his father and uncle. Ariel turned to Mycroft, smiling up at him.

"Would you care to dance, Ms. Hunt?" He asked, hand outstretched and with an awkward slur in his voice. To much brandy punch. Ariel thought with a giggle. Well, no harm done to dance with a slightly intoxicated Mycroft Holmes. Taking his hand, she stood up.

"I believe that would be acceptable." She said, and with that Mycroft walked her to the dance floor. It was another slow dance, which had Ariel both thanking her lucky stars and cursing all of humanity as it meant she would be dancing slowly, and far to closely, with Mycroft.

They started swaying to the music and Ariel noticed just how inebriated the eldest Holmes boy was. He was positively incapable of anything aside from a gentle swaying motion. There were a few awkward moments of silence between them as they moved, more or less in rhythm with the song.

"You are incredibly beautiful, Ms. Hunt." Mycroft said, and Ariel couldn't help the blush at the man's complement. She opened her mouth to reply, but it seemed he was not done.  
Mycroft leaned in awkwardly to speak directly in Ariel's ear.

"My brother doesn't deserve a woman like you. You deserve a real man." He said in an almost flirtatious tone. Then as an after thought, he added with a devilish grin, "Like me." Ariel pulled back and gave him a horrified look.

"Mycroft Holmes! How dare you?!" She exclaimed, stepping back in absolute horror.

Mycroft, in his drunken stupor, reached out and firmly grabbed her wrist with more strength than should be possible in his state. Ariel struggled to get free but to no avail.

That was the moment Sherlock strode over and with a possessive growl, punch his brother square in the jaw. There were a few muffled cries of surprise from surrounding family members as the older Holmes stumbled backwards and fell on his posh rump. Before Ariel had time to fully register what had happened, Sherlock had her wrapped in a possessive hug and a growl escaped his lips as he glared at his brother.

"Do NOT touch her." He snapped in a low, deadly voice. Ariel was caught somewhere between shock at the possessive act from the rather detached man, and melting into him tight embrace. Mycroft awkwardly picked himself up off the floor, moving towards his attacker, but Sherlock stood his ground.

"No need to get so protective, brother dear. I was only making her an offer." Mycroft slurred out, somehow managing to look both debauched and his haughty self.

"She is mine. And you will not take her away from me." The younger Holmes growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do we think? Love it? Hate it? Want to know what songs I imagined them dancing to? Please, leave a review and let me know! It seriously makes my day. :)
> 
> Also, this chapter is dedicated to one Silverlining101 for her brilliant and awesome ideas, and her loyal support.


	63. A Dozen Questions

Chapter LXIII

Mycroft had shrugged and walked away, obviously not phased by his brother's outburst. Ariel however, was still rather shocked. She wiggled free from Sherlock's grip and turned to stare at him, silently asking a hundred questions.

But when Sherlock's gaze met hers, he bowed his head, turned on his heels, and fled from the ballroom. Ariel chased after him, eventually catching up to Sherlock in the entry way. As his hand reached for the doorknob, Ariel felt her heart sink.

"Sherlock?" She heard her voice say, soft and breaking. The consulting detective stilled but didn't turn to look at her. Instead he just sighed and held onto the doorknob.

"Where... where are you going?" She asked, in then same tone.

"I knew coming here was a bad idea." Sherlock growled. Ariel took a deep breath.

"Why? We were having so much fun." She asked innocently. Sherlock just gave a derisive snort. Another deep breath, and Ariel tried something else.

"You said I was yours. That I wouldn't be taken away from you..." She let the unasked question of why hang in the air. She watched as Sherlock steeled himself.

"I suppose I did, didn't I?" He replied in his cold, flat, emotionless tone.

"Sherlock...I'm not going anywhere." Ariel said, carefully taking a step towards him. "I'll always be here. I love you." At that Sherlock spun around, facing Ariel for the first time in the conversation. She gasped lightly at what she saw. Despite the flash of anger, Sherlock's eyes were filled with what she could only describe as worry and confusion, as well as something close to fear.

"How can you say that so easily?" Sherlock asked, his voice a rumble of emotions in the silent hall. Ariel closed the distance between them and intertwined one of her hands with his as she slid the other to cup his cheek, gently stroking it with her thumb to calm him.

"Because I know, Sherlock. I know how I feel." Ariel reassured him.

"But how? I understand the science of it - the need to mate, the increased levels of dopamine and other chemicals - but how do you know you will always love your current partner?" Sherlock asked, lowering his voice a little and using his normal tone. He wrenched himself from her grasp, but didn't go to move away. That's when it hit her.

He's scared I'll leave him. Ariel thought in horror, his words and expressions finally clicking into place. It was one explanation for emotions not being his area - that he'd been hurt before. A spark of anger lit in her towards whoever did that to Sherlock.

"I know emotions are scary. But trust me, nothing worth having comes without a risk. And I love you, more than I've ever loved anyone else. You have to trust me." Ariel said, her feelings reflected through her whole body. Sherlock stared back into her eyes just briefly before turning his head, avoiding any and all eye contact.

"You must think I'm a fool." He muttered. With a fond smile, Ariel turned his head back to her, looking him in the eyes.

"No, I don't. And do you want to know why? Because there's not a day that goes by that I worry this is nothing but a lie, a sick game being played to hurt me. Because I've been hurt more times than I care to count. I've had my heart shattered a thousand times. But Sherlock, if I don't take the risk of trying again, of opening up, then of what benefit would the heartache have been? What we have is special, and I wouldn't trade it for anything." Ariel spoke softly yet passionately.

Sherlock looked at her and studied her before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, apparently making his decision.

"I do trust you." He said in a low whisper. With those words, Ariel kissed him. For the first time in what felt like forever, she kissed him. And Sherlock, for all his coldness and detachment, fear and mistrust, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. As they parted a minute later, he whispered, "And... I love you too."

Ariel clung to him, hands cradling his face as she stared up at the big silver blue eyes and smiled.

"What about from before? When you said how much a smile can hide? Did I deduce correctly?" Sherlock asked, half smirk on his lips. Ariel returned it with her own grin.

"In order for me to tell you if you were correct, I would first need to know the deduction, now wouldn't I?" She asked playfully.

Sherlock continued to grin, but it turned into something almost sinister as he rumbled,  
"Should I tell you? Of course I should." He dropped his head to purr into her ear, "Your pulse was elevated, your pupils were dilated, much like they are now. You want to ravish me, don't you?" The small sigh that escaped Ariel's lips at the closeness of him made Sherlock chuckle as he placed a gentle kiss below her ear. "Now tell me, am I right?"

"Yes. Oh god, yes." Ariel breathed out, eyes fluttering closed. She forced them open after a moment of revelling, fixing a firm gaze on Sherlock.

"But that's not what you want." She said, taking a step back to put a little distance between them. Sherlock look confused, but somehow more hurt than anything. It broke Ariel's heart, but she knew she needed him to be the one to make this choice.

"How do you know what I want?" Sherlock asked, his brows furrowing.

"Because I can see it Sherlock. I'm not blind. I can see how scared you are of this, how unsure you are about things. I understand, and I want to take things at a comfortable pace for you. And if that means I can't kiss you when we aren't at home, then I guess that's something I will have to deal with." Ariel said gently with a small smile on her lips. Sherlock seemed to ponder her words for a moment.

"I am sorry. Please, forgive me. I... I don't understand all of my emotions right now." He said, bowing his head. Ariel gave him a fond smile.

"Oh Sherlock. I know you don't, and I understand. Emotions are tough to understand. But you're trying, and that's all I ask." Ariel said, cupping his cheek and bringing his eyes back to hers. Sherlock stared back at her, somewhat caught off guard by the thought that Ariel understood him. There was a long moment of silence where Sherlock tried to find the words. Finally, he spoke, his voice a soft baritone in the empty hallway.

"Thank you." It was two simple words, but it meant the world coming from Sherlock. Ariel smiled lovingly as she replied, "You're welcome. My genius." Sherlock let out a small chuckle at the affectionate title. He wasn't used to it, but it somehow just sounded good to him.

However, their moment was not to last, as Sherlock's cousin came down the hall.

"Oh, sorry mate. Didn't mean to interrupt." The cousin apologized, backing up. With a final smile at Sherlock, Ariel turned to greet their company.

"Oh no, it's fine. We were just about to leave." She said, slipping her hand into Sherlock's as they made their way past his cousin and down the hall. They were just about to enter the ballroom again when Mrs. Holmes' voice rang out.

"Sherlock William Scott Holmes! What on Earth did you punch your brother for?" She yelled, approaching them. Sherlock rolled his eyes as his mother demanded an answer.

"Mummy, have you seen him? He is spectacularly drunk. I was simply teaching him a lesson. One I hope he will actually remember." Sherlock explained, somehow a hint of respect in his normal 'dealing with idiots' tone. His mother gave him a cross look.

"That is no reason to become violent with him. You are better than that Sherlock." She scolded, to which Sherlock responded with a huff. Mrs. Holmes seemed to notice Ariel for the first time in the conversation and her expression instantly softened.

"Well, no harm done I suppose. But you had better apologize to him, young man." She said sternly. Sherlock mumbled something that sounded like a halfhearted agreement, and with a final glare, his mother disappeared into the ballroom.

Ariel managed to restrain her giggle as her and Sherlock followed after her. There were a few awkward stares at the detective and mumbled comments as they entered, and as Ariel looked around, she got the feeling that while some of them were about the brothers feud, most of the whispered conversations were about Sherlock's possessiveness of her.

Somehow, that made Ariel stand a little taller and made her a little bolder. Let them talk about her. After all, people did little else. There was still some soft music playing and a few couples danced slowly on the floor while the majority of the remaining residents were sat at tables and talked. Ariel sat down at one of the abandoned tables while Sherlock just looked at her curiously.

"Is there a reason for your staring?" Ariel asked, a small grin on her face.

"I'm simple curious as to why you are sitting." Sherlock replied evenly, gesturing at her.

"I just need a moment." She replied. Sherlock nodded, and looked away, still standing awkwardly by Ariel as he observed the room. Ariel looked away and while her head was turned, Sherlock dashed off. When Ariel looked again, he was gone.

She tried to spot him, and when she couldn't, she got worried. What if he'd run off? What if they hadn't cleared things up earlier and he was still upset? These and a dozen other questions bombarded her mind until suddenly the tall detective was standing beside her. Ariel let out a surprised squeak when he lightly brushed against her and handed her a glass of what she could only assume was champagne.

"I believe it is social etiquette for a man to get his date a drink at these types of events." Sherlock explained to Ariel's confused face. The man himself had a glass of the bubbly liquid and was taking the seat opposite Ariel.

"How much crap telly have you been watching?" She asked jokingly before sipping the drink. She smiled widely as Sherlock chuckled.

"So, tell me about your family." Ariel requested. Sherlock looked at her oddly.

"You haven't figured it all out yet?" He asked, surprised. Ariel giggled.

"While I may have some of your observation skills, I am severely lacking in the 'deducing an individuals whole life story' one." She giggled out.

Sherlock gave her a pleased smile before explaining and pointing out members of his family to Ariel. They had gotten to his cousins by the time an earlier mentioned aunt, his father's youngest sister, wandered over to them. She put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, directing his attention to her.

"Sherlock. So good to see you. How have you been, dear?" She asked politely.

"Very well, Auntie Lydia." Sherlock replied, a kind smile on his face.

"That's wonderful. And who might this be?" Auntie Lydia asked, gesturing to Ariel.

"This is Ariel Hunt." Sherlock said, as Ariel extended her hand to shake the elder lady's.

"A pleasure to meet you." Ariel said, smiling.

"And a pleasure to meet you. I never thought I'd see the day I'd meet Sherlock's fiancé!" She replied excitedly. Sherlock visibly went paler, a feat for his alabaster skin. Ariel tried not to burst out laughing at the notion, instead putting on a massive grin.

"Oh no, I'm not his fiancé." She assured the elder lady, who gave her a confused look.

"No? But you must be someone special for Sherlock to bring you here." Aunty Lydia replied. Ariel smiled.

"I am. I'm a close friend of his." She answered. Sherlock mumbled something under his breath that caught Ariel's attention. "What?"

"I said, you might as well tell her." Sherlock said, speaking up a bit. Ariel looked at him and blushed before saying to his aunt, "Well, actually I'm his girlfriend."

"I knew it! I knew you were special!" Auntie Lydia exclaimed. Then she turned to Sherlock and said in a very serious tone, "So, when are you going to pop the question?" What little colour had returned to Sherlock's face was gone again in a heartbeat.

"I think we may need a little more time before that." Ariel answered gently.

"I see." Auntie Lydia said, looking between the two. "Well, sorry to have interrupted. Goodnight. Pleasure meeting you."

"You too." Ariel replied as the aunt walked away. Sherlock stood up once she was gone.

"Come on, let's go." He said quietly. Ariel smiled, slipping her hand into his as they walked to their room for the night.


	64. New & Unusual

Chapter LXIV

Ariel padded softly down the stairs as the mid morning sun lit up the warm wooden floors of the house. She smiled as she heard laughter coming from the dinning room, guiding her down the halls to where the remaining members of the Holmes family had gathered for breakfast.

She opened the door, smiling at the happy family as she searched the room for Sherlock. When she spotted him, her smile grew as she moved to sit down at the long table. She carefully considered her limited seating options and choose a spot so that she, unfortunately, ended up sandwiched between Sherlock and Mycroft.

Sherlock took his seat beside her, glaring at his brother and wrapping a protective arm around Ariel as he did. Mycroft, sober and as well put together as normal, simply rolled his eyes at his younger brother. Ariel didn't doubt that he had already been informed about the incident last night, that is, if he didn't remember it himself.

She noticed that the older man made sure to give her more space than she required, at one point moving his chair away from her. That made Ariel giggle inside, that Mycroft Holmes, the man who practically was the British government, was scared of his own little brother.

Ariel served herself something to eat from the plates stacked high with pancakes and bowls overflowing with berries of all sorts, not to mention the fried eggs and ham that were being passed around. As she munched on her food, she looked around the table.

Besides herself, Sherlock and Mycroft, there were Mr. And Mrs. Holmes, Uncle George and Aunt Marie, their two sons Bryce and David, their wives, Cherie and Lucy, and their children. There were a few other odd relatives, like the great aunt Sherlock and Ariel had sat with last night at dinner, but none Ariel knew the names of. Uncle George was sat across from her, laughing heartily as his son told a story.

In all honesty, Ariel's favourite relative of Sherlock's was Uncle George. There was something about his boisterous character and charming smile that made Ariel love him. As Ariel attempted to listen in on the story Bryce was telling, she realized something. Sherlock was not only completely silent, but as still as a statue beside her.

She carefully stole a glance at the man next to her, only to find him staring into space, deep in thought. Ariel figured it was best to leave him to it, though she did slip an egg and some strawberries (his favourite, she knew) onto his plate. She leaned over to whisper in his ear, tapping his shoulder lightly.

"Eat. Please." She asked quietly, under the dull roar of the current conversations being held at the table. Sherlock nodded, still staring into space, and absentmindedly grabbed the fork and pierced a strawberry, bitting into the juice berry before fully registering it. Ariel didn't miss the broad, pleased smile Mrs. Holmes gave her from the other end of the table, and she returned it in kind.

The rest of breakfast past by rather uneventfully, much to Ariel's relief. Sherlock, against his will, was coerced into spending time with some of the males of his family, doing whatever it was that they had decided to do. Suddenly relieved of taking care of Sherlock, Ariel found herself strangely free and at a loss as to what she should do in this unfamiliar place. As she contemplated her options, her thoughts were interrupted by the approach of Mrs. Holmes.

"Do you want to take a walk in the garden with me, Ariel?" The elder lady asked.

"That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Holmes." She replied, smiling. The mother smiled and nodded before leading the way to the gardens of the house.

Like the inside, the outside of the house, and the surrounding foliage, was kept simple, elegant and with a bit of its own charm. A small stone statue of a dog was sat beside the old wooden bench which overlooked the gardens and the small pond on the far side. They strolled casually through the large gardens in comfortable silence until Mrs. Holmes spoke.

"You really are something special." She remarked to Ariel as they walked. Ariel hid her blush but smiled appreciatively.

"Thank you. But what would make you say that?" The younger woman asked politely.  
With a fond chuckle and a smile on her face, Mrs. Holmes replied,

"I have never seen anyone convince Sherlock to eat against his will with so little fuss. You, though, somehow managed it this morning."

"I doubt I convinced him to eat against his will, but he does know how much it bothers me when he doesn't eat at least one proper meal a day." Ariel explained, grinning at the praise from Mrs. Holmes. The elder lady laughed.

"And the touch with the strawberries? How on earth did you figure that out?" She asked.

"Observation." Ariel said proudly. "I bought some a few weeks ago for my own use, but they mysteriously disappeared. And of course, the only one with access to them was Sherlock. A small experiment later proved that they were, in fact, his favourite."

"You figured it out? He didn't tell you?" Asked Mrs. Holmes, impressed. Ariel's pride grew a little more as she nodded her confirmation. Mrs. Holmes gave her a smile of approval before taking a seat on the bench and motioning for Ariel to join her.

"You know, you really do make a good match for my son. Not only are you a beautiful young lady, but you are intelligent and simply charming." Mrs. Holmes observed. Ariel gave a small laugh, which had the mother frowning at her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just... I tend to think of myself in less... endearing ways." Ariel attempted to explain. Mrs. Holmes gave her a stern look.

"Listen here sweetie, I have no doubt you are everything, and more, than what I just said. And if Sherlock makes you feel any less, he will have me to answer to." Mrs. Holmes said sternly. Ariel fought back a nervous giggle and simply smiled.

"Thank you." She said. That seemed to make Mummy happy. Unfortunately, the interrogation was far from over.

"So, tell me how you two met." Mrs. Holmes asked excitedly a minute later. Ariel giggled.

"Well, it started because I met up with an old acquaintance of mine, Dr. Watson..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sherlock closed the door and flopped back onto the bed. He had managed to manoeuvre his way out of a game of cards or whatever it was and had quickly hidden himself up here, away from prying eyes and dull games to a place he could actually think.

He wanted nothing more than to go back to Baker Street and loaf around in his dressing gown while occasionally doing experiments. Or better yet, he wanted to get on a case. Perhaps Lestrade had a murder or two for him to solve. Even if they were only sixes, they would be more interesting than cards with his cousins and brother.

Sherlock let himself slip into his mind palace, desperate for some sort of distraction. He was just searching through his collection of blunt force trauma wounds when he heard it. The distinct tinkling sound that could only be Ariel laughing.

Eyes suddenly flashing open, Sherlock listened intently. There was Ariel's voice, certainly, and... it sounded like his mother, though the voices were fairly low. They must be walking in the garden. Sherlock thought. He attempted to listen to the conversation, moving closer to the open window, but gave up. They were simply to far away for him to hear.

Sherlock stalked back to the the bed and fell unceremoniously on it. He tried to go back to his catalogue of wounds, but his mind rebelled against him, filling his head with thoughts of her. Eventually Sherlock gave in and let his mind explore all the things he knew about Ariel. His Ariel.

Like how her golden hair glittered in the sunlight or how her blue eyes sparkled when she laughed. Sherlock physically shook himself. What is wrong with me? He thought.

He refocused his mind, this time on their conversation from last night. Sherlock sifted through the conversation over and over again, deducing all he could, looking at it from every angle. However, he found it hard not to conclude that he was an idiot at this and that Ariel thought him so, and that he should just give this whole thing up.

But somehow, Sherlock knew he couldn't. He couldn't give up Ariel. He didn't want to. It was an irrational, insensible way to be, but he didn't care. Ariel was his and his alone. He had proved that much last night.

Another flash of memory darted through his mind. His aunt asking him when he would propose to his girlfriend after wrongly assuming they were already engaged. He tried to shove it aside, delete it, but it kept coming back. He knew it was just his stupid aunt. He knew that all of his family were put upon by 'social norms' and that he should 'find a nice girl and settle down', but that didn't mean he enjoyed it. In fact, he detested such normal things.

What was bothering him though was that tiny bit of his mind that kept saying "But you love Ariel, don't you? So why wouldn't you marry her?". And to be honest, Sherlock didn't have an answer. He ran his fingers through his head of curls, frustrated. Why did love have to be so confusing?

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ariel had a wonderful conversation with Mummy Holmes. They had shared a lot in the two hours they had spent together, wandering the garden. Ariel quiet enjoyed Mrs. Holmes' company. She wasn't anything like what Ariel had assumed Sherlock's mother would be like.

In fact, she was nearly the complete opposite. Where Ariel thought she would be strict, distant and cold, the elder lady was warm, friendly and tender. Mrs. Holmes had a great sense of humour, a quick wit, and a motherly firmness to her ways. The current bout of laughter died away and brought Ariel back to the moment.

"Thank you, Mrs. Holmes." She said, smiling at the elder lady.

"What are you thanking me for? I should be thanking you! You're the one who has to put up with my son." Mummy said. Ariel smiled shyly.

"It really isn't as much of a chore as you might think." Ariel said quietly.

"It normal isn't when it's someone you love." Mrs. Holmes replied gently. Ariel looked up at the elder lady, bitting her lip as she decide whether or not to ask.

"Mrs. Holmes? Can I ask you something?" She said, looking at the elder lady.

"Anything, dear." Mrs. Holmes replied. The younger woman took a steeling breath.

"Has Sherlock... ever had a relationship before? Anyone?" Ariel asked. It was a question that had troubled her for sometime. Not that she particularly cared one way or the other, but it would help her read Sherlock better. And after last night and her possible deduction of his words, she had to know if she was right. Mrs. Holmes sighed.

"I'm sure you know him well enough by now to know that he likes to experiment. I know that he faked his way through a two or three relationships for the sake of his experiments, but none of them were real to him." Mummy explained. Ariel nodded, going to thank the older lady, but stopped when she saw the look on her face. Mrs. Holmes' expression mirrored Ariel's from a few moments before; calculating, deciding.

"Anything else?" Ariel asked carefully.

"Well, there was this one girl when he was in his first year at university. Only proper girl he'd ever been with, except for you, of course. I remember he was so happy, and ridiculously proud." Mrs. Holmes recalled, a small smile on her face. Then her face became solemn and sad.

"What happened to her?" Ariel asked, concerned. Mrs. Holmes snapped out of her funk and gave Ariel a smile.

"She left him. She wasn't worth of him, in the end. That girl didn't know what she had. All she was looking for was a handsome face and a willing body. But no more talk about such insignificant things from the past." Mrs. Holmes said, putting on a smile. "I should probably go attend to my other guests. Pleasure chatting with you, sweetie."

And with that, Mrs. Holmes left Ariel alone with her thoughts. Slowly, Ariel stood and made her way back toward the house. She couldn't help feeling a little proud of her correct guess, but mostly she felt sorry for Sherlock. She wanted to throw her arms around him and hold him until he forgot her. But he probably wouldn't allow it. Not here. Not now.


	65. Emotional

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my wonderful readers! So, this chapter was not supposed to be as dramatic as it turned out to be, but I had to let the story find it's own way. Enjoy!

Chapter LXV

Sherlock was lost in thought when the door to the room clicked open and flew inwards.

"We're leaving." Ariel's voice said in a clipped tone as Sherlock heard the door bang shut and Ariel begin packing her few things.

"What did my mother say now?" Sherlock asked with a sigh, not even bothering to move from his spot sprawled out on the bed.

"She didn't say anything. I'm just ready to go home." Ariel said as she shut her small suit case and finally turned to face Sherlock. The detective lifted his head up, looked her over, and flopped back down.

"Please spare me the trouble of deducing it and just tell me why you have the sudden urge to return to Baker Street." Sherlock stated plainly, clearly knowing it was far from the nothing. Sighing, Ariel caved, slumping into a nearby chair.

"I -" She started, but how exactly was she supposed to say she wanted to comfort her boyfriend because she had just learned about a past girlfriend who treated him poorly? "I just feel like now would be a good time to take our leave." Was what finally came out of her mouth. Sherlock didn't seem convinced but he left it alone, obviously to preoccupied with his moping to really pursue the topic, much to Ariel's relief.

"Fine." Was all he said, and with that, Ariel began packing his things. She didn't think twice about it. Clearly Sherlock wasn't going to do it himself and after all, she wanted to do something for him, even if he didn't actually appreciate it. She began neatly folding his things as she contemplated how to approach the topic, or if she should even bother with it at all, when Sherlock sat up and looked at her curiously.

"Why are you packing my bag?" He asked grumpily, with a hint of curiosity.

"Because we are going to leave and it's not packed up yet." Ariel explained, placing the folded clothes in the bag.

"But why are you doing it instead of telling me to do it myself?" Sherlock pressed, now more curious than grumpy.

Ariel just stared at him blankly for a few long seconds, trying to come up with a decent answer. However, she never got the chance. Sherlock jumped off the bed and in two long strides was across the room and towering over her, studying her closely. Ariel knew she had her guard down and scrambled to erect her mask to prevent Sherlock from seeing to much, but it was too late. Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"You feel pity for me." He stated, his tone neutral but somehow still filled with venom. Ariel knew if she wanted to have a chance in this fight, she should look him right in the eyes and argue with his statement. However, she couldn't meet his gaze and she knew she'd lost this battle before it had even started. Sherlock's eyes narrowed further, his mouth pressed in a firm line as he studied her for another moment. Ariel could feel the exact moment he had figured it out.

"Don't." Ariel pleaded quietly. Sherlock drew a deep breath before he asked angrily,

"Why do you care? It's history. I don't care about her anymore, so why does it matter?"

Ariel looked up at him, her eyes an unrestrained sea of emotion.

"It does matter, Sherlock. Because it helps me understand why you are the way you are. And I want to show you that you deserve better than that. That's why it matters to me, because someone used and made feel worthless the person I love the most. That deserves more than anyone on this planet, especially me, could possible give. And you have the gall to ask why I would care? I'll tell you why. Because I care about you, and I love you!" Ariel all but screamed at him.

There were unwanted tears threatening her eyes. How could he not understand? How could this genius of a man not get that she loved and cared for him above all else, even when it was about the past? She turned away, desperate to regain some form of control before continuing this conversation. There were several long seconds of silence before she broke it again.

"It hurts me that you don't think I care." Ariel said quietly, fighting to restrain her emotions.

Sherlock was frozen behind her, unsure of what to do. Yes, at the time, the girl from before had hurt him. It had been the time in his life Mycroft had imprinted on his mind the words "Caring is not an advantage." And up until recently, Sherlock had wholeheartedly believed those words with all the pieces of his broken and damaged heart.

Though he no longer cared about the girl from uni, he had held that saying of Mycroft's as his core belief. It was what made him such an objective person, even if he often came off as cold, rude and blunt.

Of course, the more he drew away from social norms, the more he was rejected and outcast, only providing Sherlock with plenty of evidence to support his theory that emotions were a hindrance to him.

But no matter how hard he tried, the damage already done, and that would continue to be done by others, always lay as an open wound in his heart. So he had become a reclusive, drug addicted, thrill seeking, crime fighting, puzzle solving, impersonal force.

Yet, that had changed. First Lestrade, then Mrs. Hudson, then Molly and John, and then Ariel all entered his life, as his friends. People who cared about him, who wanted to know about him, who protected him from others and even himself at times. People who were willing to give up parts of their lives for him.

If Sherlock was honest, he hadn't thought to much about it at first. But lately, it had really hit him just how far he'd come. And now here he was, faced with a girl who had admitted wholeheartedly to loving him, but believed he didn't care. What she didn't understand was just how long it had been since Sherlock had allowed himself to feel these emotions.

It was a new and uncertain thing for him, but he knew he didn't want to mess it up. So, with a deep breath, Sherlock prepared to do something he had promised himself he would never do again - he spoke from his heart.

"Ariel, I know you care. I just... I don't always understand why. It's not that I don't believe you, I do, but you must understand something. This... being emotionally involved... it's something I've learned to live without. I've denied myself from feeling for so long that... I don't understand it anymore. It's new to me. And it's so confusing sometimes, I don't know what to do." Sherlock admitted, doing his best to explain. Ariel turned to him, her mask dropped for Sherlock to see the full range of emotions she felt.

"It really is something new, huh?" She asked, a small, light hearted chuckle. Sherlock gave one as well, hoping to defuse some of the tension between them.

"Yes Ariel. I am greatly inexperienced in this area. I do not fully understand all of it's implications." Sherlock said, giving her a small smile. Ariel grinned, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Before Sherlock had time to react, Ariel had wrapped her arms around his lean frame, pulling him close to her as her head rested on his shoulder. After the shock abated, Sherlock returned the hug, squeezing Ariel gently.

"I know how hard that was for you, to say that. And I really do appreciate you trying, because I know you're trying for me." She whispered into his shoulder. Sherlock just hummed, content to hold her there for as long as she needed him. Which was a new feeling.

One I'll have to analyze later. He thought, shutting off his brain just enough to enjoy the warm weight against his chest. Seconds turned into minutes as they stood their, interlocked in a warm embrace until finally Ariel pulled away.

"I apologize for being so emotional. You probably think I'm a fool." Ariel said, her words echoing his from the night before as she gave him a gentle smile. Sherlock knew this was the moment he was supposed to step in, say something kind and sweet, but he wasn't sure what.

"There are many fools in this world, but I have not know you to be one of them." He tried experimentally, hoping those were the right words. Ariel's smile brightened, and she leaned up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you." She whispered.

There were so many things Sherlock read from those two small words and her accompanying facial expressions after. Thank you for the complement. Thank you for the hug. Thank you for trying for me. Thank you for trying to understand. Thank you for loving me. It honestly was a lot for Sherlock to take in at once. Taking a step back, Ariel took a deep breath and smiled.

"So... Shall we take our leave?" She asked brightly. Sherlock gave her a lopsided grin.

"I believe I still have a few things to pack, but yes, we shall." He answered. Ariel let out a tinkling little laugh and Sherlock smiled, knowing all was well.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"You're leaving already?" Mrs. Holmes asked, slightly worried. "It wasn't something I said, was it?" Ariel giggled as Mycroft's driver loaded their bags into the car.

"No, Mrs. Holmes, I just think Sherlock and I should be getting back. He has his work to get to, and I recently moved into a new place that still needs a lot of work. It was wonderful to be here, and I do hope to see you again soon." She replied, giving the mother a quick hug.

"I'm sure we will. Do take care of him, won't you?" Mrs. Holmes said to Ariel. The younger woman giggled again.

"I will. I promise." She said, smiling. The attention then turned to Sherlock.

"It's so good to see you with a nice girl, Sherly. Do try and keep this one." Mr. Holmes said to his son. Sherlock visibly stiffened at his father's comment.

"Yes Papa." Sherlock mumbled. Mrs. Holmes hugged her son.

"You be good now. Make us proud." She said, absolutely beaming at her youngest son.

"I'll try." Sherlock consented.

With a small nudge from Ariel, the two of them made their way to the car. With one final wave, they were off. It had seemed like forever since Ariel was in the cozy comfort afforded to her on Baker Street. She looked over at Sherlock, who was staring into empty space as they drove down the driveway to the road.

She gently ran her fingers over his knee to get his attention. He turned his head, locking the blue-silver of his eyes on her sapphire ones.

"You alright?" Ariel asked quietly, feeling that if she spoke to loud she'd break some sort of invisible barrier. Sherlock blinked at her once, twice, before answering.

"I'm fine." He said as he returned to his staring.

Ariel wasn't stupid though. She could see that Sherlock was thinking, and thinking hard, about something that disturbed him. She thought better of asking what it was though, because she knew the likelihood Sherlock would actually tell her what was wrong was low. That, and of course she probably already knew the answer.

So, they spent the long car ride back to Baker Street in silence. Ariel had some thinking of her own to do, in fact. For instance, what on earth had happened to her earlier? She nearly had a breakdown after no more than two minutes of talking to Sherlock about his ex. Of course, it was completely understandable, given the way their conversation had gone, but she was Ariel Hunt. She was supposed to be able to be stronger than that.

Her walls were supposed to be able to keep others out, portray indifference, while she crumbled on the inside. Maybe it was because Sherlock could see through her mask more often than not that she stopped trying. Or maybe it was because she loved him so much. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because she felt that she needed to let Sherlock see that side of her. The one that caved and crumbled, the one that struggled to keep it's head above water, the one that fought and often lost the battle.

Ariel wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even to herself, but she was not as strong and indifferent as she lead others to believe. And perhaps that's why she was so insistent on making this work with Sherlock, because she saw the side of him that matched hers.

They both had false fronts, but behind the walls and the bright exterior was a soul that had been broken and crushed, a spirit desperate for warmth, wanting nothing more than to break free of the cage it's owner had put it in because they were afraid. Afraid of being hurt again. Afraid of rejection, of torment. Afraid to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said - More dramatic than I intended. Oh well. What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Think it sucked? Please, leave a review and tell me what you thought!


	66. He Needs a Case

Chapter LXVI

"So, you had a good time then?" John asked, smiling as he set about making tea. Sherlock and Ariel had just arrived home and he was glad to see them in one piece. Ariel wandered into the kitchen after him, opening a cupboard and grabbing the biscuits.

"I think it went rather well." She replied, munching on one of the biscuits. "There were a few complications, but I believe they were resolved sufficiently." John quirked an eyebrow at her, curious as to what she meant. Ariel just smiled before walking into the living room, John in tow. Sherlock was already sprawled on the sofa, an interesting arrangement of limbs. Ariel perched in Sherlock's usual armchair, while John took his.

"So..." John started again, clearing his throat briefly. When no one else contributed, he sighed and continued. "Anything interesting happen?"

"Do you think if there had been anything interesting we'd be home this early?" Sherlock huffed out grumpily from his spot on the couch. Ariel rolled her eyes affectionately at the detective before turning to John.

"Nothing worth telling about, John. Other than that I, for one, had a lovely time." She said, smiling. John may have been reading to much into it, but he was almost certain that particular smile meant 'we're going to have to have a long discussion over a pint'. He suppressed a chuckle at the idea.

"That's good." John replied, returning the smile. The air feel silent again, but only for the briefest of moments.

"How did your date go?" Sherlock asked offhandedly. John looked at him, still surprised after all these years just how much he could deduce without a single word being uttered.

"You had a date?" Ariel asked, pressing him with an inquisitive gaze.

"Well, actually, I did." John said, smiling proudly. Sherlock scoffed, even though he was unable to see the look on his friends face.

"Skye and I went out last night, just for fun." He said getting up to get the kettle. Sherlock muttered, "And ended up at her place last night." Ariel had to suppress a giggle. She already knew John had spent the night to at Skye's place. It was obvious by the wrinkling in John's usually ironed button down, the smudges of red lipstick on his collar and the faint traces of Gucci perfume lingering on him. But hearing Sherlock tease John about it was rather funny.

John, of course, was oblivious to the goings on in the living room while he made tea. Returning with his own cup, as well as one for both Sherlock and Ariel, he takes his usual seat and attempts to turn the conversation back to them.

"So, were there lots of people there?" John said, trying to engage Ariel. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as Sherlock loosed a loud sigh.

"You know, if you don't want to listen to me talk to Ariel, you could leave." The doctor suggested. Sherlock just huffed and rolled over on the sofa. Ariel gave John a look before getting up and walking into the kitchen.

John followed a minute later, entering as Ariel was washing up the dishes. As he placed his in the sink, she leaned in to whisper,

"We need to get him a case."

"Why? What happened?" John asked, worry still painting his hushed words.

"Nothing. But that's it. He hasn't had a proper case since... well, you know. He needs the work, John." Ariel pleaded. John gave her a bit of a shrug.

"I'll see what I can do." He replied, moving to go back to the living room. Ariel smiled her gratitude at him before following him. Sherlock was still a heap on the sofa, a tangled mess of limbs and dark curls. Ariel and John shared a look, before Ariel moved to grumpy detective. Placing her hand gently on his shoulder, she said quietly,

"Sherlock? I'm just going to go downstairs and unpack. I'll be back in a bit." And with a brief kiss to his forehead, she left the flat.

John hadn't seen either of them be overly affectionate to each other in the rather short time he'd known about their relationship, so this small display of affection from Ariel towards Sherlock was not lost on him. If anything, he now wondered more about what had happened over the weekend that made the very air around the couple change. Clearing his throat, though for no specific reason, John sat down and flipped open the nearest paper, hoping to find something interesting for Sherlock.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ariel closed the door to her small flat and sighed. It was good to be home. And if she was really honest, she was glad to have a break from Sherlock. Not that she didn't love the infuriating man, - no, she had made her feelings very clear that morning - but sometimes she just needed a break. A chance to step back and worry about herself for awhile. Which she promised herself she would do. Right after John and herself had found the worlds only consulting detective something to preoccupy him, at least for a while.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and texted Lestrade, asking if he had anything. As she waited for a reply, she emptied her overnight bag. Ten minutes and one bag later, the detective inspector still hadn't replied. Shrugging, she turned to tidying up her flat, straightening the few things she hadn't before she left. When that was finished, she moved on to checking the papers, which Mrs. Hudson, or perhaps John, had kindly left in her absence.

When she had finished with them, and found nothing to preoccupy Sherlock with, she checked her phone again. Still no response from the DI. Well, that's texting for you. She thought briefly before sending a text off to John to ask if he'd found anything. The response was almost immediate.

"Nope. Nothing in the papers, and Sherlock doesn't like anything on the website. You got any better luck? -JW"

"Nothing yet. Texted Greg, but he hasn't responded. Hopefully he'll have something.-AH"

"I hope so too. Sherlock's in a right strop. Did something happen between you two?-JW"

Ariel sighed at her phone. John wasn't an idiot. He could tell something was off.

"Yeah, but we'll have to talk about it later. Right now, Sherlock needs a case before he goes bonkers. After he's working again, you and I can go for a pint, yeah? -AH"

"Alright. But you will tell me, right? -JW"

"Of course. Case first though. -AH" With that, Ariel set her phone down.

She really didn't feel like talking to John about the incidents that had happened at the Holmes party. But she knew she had to or he'd bug her forever. She giggled as a stray image of John prying and hinting at the topic after a week or two of denial came in to her mind. It would be rather entertaining to watch. Shaking her head, Ariel allowed herself one final giggle before completely dismissing the idea. After all, John was the one upstairs putting up with the pouting detective. He deserved to at least know why.

Getting up from the spot she took on her sofa, Ariel made her way to the kitchen to prepare dinner. She figured that if Sherlock didn't get a case today, he may as well eat. John and Mrs. Hudson too, if they were up for it. So she began cutting potatoes and thawing chicken. It was as she was mixing up some spices that she heard it. The loud clamour of feet as they hurried down the stairs. Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Lestrade.

"Possible triple homicide. Called Sherlock. He's on his way. -Greg" Ariel smiled. The DI always came through with something. She shot a quick thank you text back before returning to dinner. Her phone buzzed again, this time with a text from John.

"Hope you don't mind if I get this one. -JW" Ariel giggled. As if she would.

"Not at all. Enjoy it. There'll be food for you when you get back. -AH"

"You're a saint. -JW" Ariel grinned at her phone.

She honestly didn't mind the cooking, even if she wasn't all that good at it, as long as both Sherlock and John were busy and happy. And it would seem as though they were right now. So, she happily returned to making the meal, even if it would only be her and Mrs. Hudson who would eat it hot.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

John came back to the flat a few hours later, half expecting to see Sherlock already there and sprawled on the sofa. But when he didn't, he wasn't really surprised. In fact, he felt more sorry for Molly than anything, because the poor girl was probably having to stay late to accommodate Sherlock's case related experiments. The git was probably demanding test results as well.

John shrugged. Well, at least he could eat dinner in peace. Speaking of which... Aha! There it is. John thought happily as he opened the fridge to reveal a large helping of potato wedges, carrots and peas, and what looked like breaded Parmesan chicken. Peeling off the cellophane wrap from the plate, John popped it quickly in microwave -after making sure it contained nothing hazardous- and his suspicions were confirmed. Definitely Parmesan chicken.

Pulling the plate from the microwave, John grabbed a fork and knife, cleared a spot at the kitchen table, and ate. As he finished the last bit, there was a light creak as the side door opened. Looking up from his plate, John met Ariel's gaze.

"Oh, John. I didn't expect you to be home so soon." She said, placing a basket of freshly baked cookies on the counter.

"Yeah, well, Sherlock had some experimenting or something to do at Bart's, so I figured I'd come home and eat in case he decides to pull an all nighter." John replied, getting up to put away his dishes. Ariel hummed in approval of John's decision.

"What did you think of the chicken?" She asked, turning on the tap to wash the dishes.

"It was delicious. Thank you." John replied. Ariel smiled as she scrubbed at the dishes. She was so bored, sitting at home and cleaning house. It was incredibly dull. At least John was here for a while to provide some kind of respite from the dullness.

"You're welcome. It's one of Sherlock's favourites." She said, absentmindedly adding the last bit. John's eyebrows quirked up as he reached for a cookie.

"Sherlock actually ate for you? He rarely eats what I make, and then only after arguing for an hour." John chuckled out disbelievingly. Turning the taps off and drying her hands, dishes done, Ariel leaned against the counter and faced John, a smile on her face.

"Believe it or not, the man does eat. And if he enjoys my cooking, I won't argue." She replied. John reached around her and flicked the kettle on, nibbling on the cookie in his hand. It was some sort of shortbread with a sugar glaze and sprinkles.

"Point taken." John said, brushing the stray crumbs from his lips. "What's got you in a cooking mood anyways? It's not like you normally to make a full meal and then desert to boot." Ariel sighed, taking a seat at the table before slumping over in her chair.

"It's so boring here, John. I had to find something to keep myself preoccupied." She groaned out, before adding with a sly grin. "Unless you'd prefer I practice my aim."

"No. I'd much rather food to bullet holes in my walls any day." John chuckled out. A small grin tugged at the side of Ariel's mouth.

"A lot of things happened this weekend, John. And we will talk about them over a pint but," She took a deep breath, fixing the doctor with a contemplative gaze, "I learned something I never thought was possible." She said. John waited for her to continue, but when she didn't, he prompted, "Which was...?" Ariel giggled, not really looking at John.

"He loves me. He really loves me." She said dreamily. Oh good lord, surely that didn't come out of my mouth? Ariel thought, snapping back to reality. John just laughed.

"Well, I'm glad you two got that sorted." He said, snatching another cookie from the basket. Ariel sat there, mentally scolding herself, until her thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening and slamming shut. All eyes jerked towards the whirlwind detective who was currently pacing the living room, muttering. John and Ariel shared a private, silent, conversation which ended in Ariel making tea and John moving to his arm chair. It looked like it would be a long night.


	67. Technicalities

Chapter LXVII

Ariel scrubbed at her eyes again and tried to focus on the frustratingly small print. She and John were taking shifts staying up with Sherlock, making sure he didn't run out on the case in the middle of the night. However, the consulting detective was simply lying on the sofa, eyes wide open and unseeing as he worked in his mind palace.

Ariel was attempting to read over the case files, again, looking for any clues, but she was failing to fight the heaviness of her eyelids. Forcing herself to stand on shaking legs, she made herself a good strong cuppa before returning and falling into Sherlock's armchair again. When it became obvious the caffeine wasn't helping, she consented to simply closing her eyes - no more.

She sat there, head back, and walked through her 'mind palace'. Although, she had a feeling it wasn't anywhere near big enough to be called a palace. Really, it was more of an amalgamation of several rooms connected by a hallway, but it was too big to be considered a mind house. A mind manor maybe?

There was a brief moment where Ariel wondered if she was loosing her sanity, but shoved it aside and continued her lazy search. She was pulled from her thoughts as Sherlock's voice broke through her haze.

"I said, John, would you pass me my phone." He demanded. Ariel scrubbed at her face, realizing to late that she was still wearing makeup. Oh well.

"Where is it?" She asked, preparing to get up.

Sherlock, not even looking at her, responded flippantly, "In my coat pocket."

Ariel rolled her eyes and scanned the room, sighing with relief when she found the large Belstaff flung precariously over the back of on of the study chairs. Heaving herself out of the comfortable armchair, she stumbled bleary eyed over to the discarded coat and rummaged around for the mobile. Pulling it out, she tossed it over to Sherlock, where it fell flat against the detective's chest.

"Least you could do is catch it." Ariel grumbled as she made her way back to her chair. It was a full ten minutes later before she heard a reply from Sherlock.

"Yes, but that would have been to much effort." He muttered, unseeing eyes focusing again as he drifted from his mind palace to the real world. He sat up, blinking a few times in confusion at Ariel.

"Ariel. When did you get there? Where's John?" Sherlock asked, leaping off the couch and pacing the living room. Ariel internally groaned at the amount of energy he possessed even at one in the morning.

"He's in bed." She replied before having to stifle a yawn. Sherlock stopped and quirked his eyebrow at her, questioningly.

"How long ago?" He asked.

"'Bout two hours ago now." Ariel got out before another yawn over took her. She shook her head, hoping it would wake her up a bit. It didn't.

"That's not possible. I was just talking to him." Sherlock said disbelievingly. Ariel sighed.

"You were talking to John three hours ago before he left to go to sleep. You got me to grab your phone fifteen minutes ago." She explained, patience wearing thin due to lack of sleep. All the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place, because Sherlock simply nodded and went back to pacing. Ariel was just dozing off when Sherlock spoke.

"Have you found anything useful in the files?" He asked. Ariel scrubbed her face.

"Hmmm? Ummm, no, not really. The three homicide victims seem," she paused, yawning. "Sorry, seem to be unrelated, though I suppose a serial killer doesn't need a reason to link his victims." Sherlock blinked at her, obviously deducing more than the information she had just said. Seconds ticked by in silence before Sherlock broke it.

"You're tired." He stated simply. Ariel gave a short laugh before fixing him with a glare.

"Of course I'm tired. I had horrible night at your parents' place, I had an emotionally exhausting day and then I'm up till god knows when to make sure you don't go running off." Ariel explained, but there was a sparkle of good nature to her face.

"Go to bed Ariel. You needn't worry about me. I'll be fine." Sherlock said before pacing again. Ariel gave an unbelieving laugh.

"Yeah right, and John's gay." She said, chuckling, as she got up from her chair to still Sherlock. "I can't have you running off to the other end of London, chasing a murderer, without either John or I. Which means while John's trying to recoup enough to chase you all day tomorrow, I have to make sure you don't run off." Sherlock looked her over, probably noting all the signs of just how exhausted she was.

"Go to bed, Ariel." He repeated after a moment, adding, "I promise to stay in the flat until John wakes up." Ariel gave him a suspicious look, but she couldn't deny how fantastic sleep sounded right now.

"Promise me you won't leave? Even if you have a great deduction?" She asked, pleadingly. Sherlock grinned.

"Of course. I can't go running off without an assistant." He replied. Ariel smiled widely.

"Thank you." She whispered, leaning in to give him a small peck on the cheek.

"Mmmm, get some rest. You'll need it." Sherlock replied, going back to his pacing. Ariel smiled as she descended the stairs to her own flat, stumbling through the door and falling unceremoniously onto her bed. A quick discarding of uncomfortable clothing and a tug of her blanket left Ariel drifting off to sleep, warm and content.

XXXXXXXX

Loud thumping on her door jolted Ariel awake. Sitting up, she heard John call out,  
"Ariel? If you're in there, answer me, please! Ariel?"

"Come in John!" She called back, doing her best to rouse herself from sleep. A moment later, her bedroom door flew open.

"Where is he?" John asked, flushed face and wild eyes. It took Ariel a half a second to figure out who John meant. Her own eyes widened in disbelief.

"You mean he's not in the flat?" She asked, flinging the blankets from her bed as she joined John in search of the lanky detective.

"No. Was he supposed to be? I thought you were watching him." John asked as Ariel did a quick sweep of her own flat.

"I was, until I all but nodded off in the chair. He told me to go to bed, and I made him promise not to leave the flat without one of us." Ariel explained. She quickly threw on a dressing gown and went to knock on Mrs. Hudson's door.

"Oh! Good morning deary. What's the matter?" The elder lady asked, confused.  
"Have you seen Sherlock?" Ariel asked.

"No dear, I haven't. In fact, I haven't seen him since he came bursting in last night." Mrs. Hudson explained. Ariel gave her a quick smile, covering up the look of dread.

"Thank you." She said curtly before turning on her heels and retreating to her flat. Mrs. Hudson let out an annoyed little huff before closing the door.

"No luck?" John asked, re-entering Ariel's flat.

"Nope." She replied, closing her door part way before ripping of her nightwear and getting properly dressed in record time. A quick wash and she was ready.

"Should I text Lestrade, or...?" Ariel let the question hang in the air as she grabbed her mobile and wallet.

John shook his head, answering as he followed her, "No. Already called him up and he said he hadn't heard a peep from Sherlock since last night." Flinging the door open, Ariel emerged on to the already bustling London street.

"Right. Well, you take a jaunt over to Angelo's and ask him if he's seen Sherlock, keeping an eye out for him on the way. I'll check down this way before heading over to Bart's. That is, if Molly hasn't texted me back by then." Ariel directed.

John nodded and they went their separate ways, Ariel grumbling to herself about the idiotic detective. She wasn't even a block away when her mobile went off. Begrudgingly, she answered it.

"Hello?" She said into the small microphone.

"Hi deary, it's Mrs. Hudson." The elderly lady's voice said on the other end. "I was wondering if you could do me a favour." Five minutes later, Ariel was helping Mrs. Hudson when they heard a loud thump from upstairs.

Ariel slowly climbed the stairs, ready to battle any intruder. But when she opened the door to the flat, the only person visible was Sherlock. His lanky form hovering over a large stack of cold case files that had been the source of the loud thump. But Ariel didn't care about them.

"Where on earth have you been?" She asked, angry but relieved. Sherlock shot her an innocent glance.

"You told me not to leave the flat..." He started, but Ariel cut him off.

"I made you promise not to leave the flat, without either John or I. So where were you?" She asked again, glaring now. Sherlock looked completely oblivious to her rage.

"I was on the roof." He stated simply, flipping through the files. Ariel took a deep breath to keep from shouting.

"And what were you doing up there?" She asked as mildly as possible.

"Conducting an experiment." Sherlock mumbled his reply. Ariel huffed. Figures. She thought, pulling out her mobile to text John. Hopefully he hadn't gotten to far.

"Found him. Come back when you're ready. -AH" The reply was unsurprisingly instant.

"What! Where was he? On my way. -JW" Ariel didn't have time to respond as Sherlock was staring at her.

"You're mad. At me?" Sherlock deduced, a slight cock of his head at the last two words.

"A bit, yeah. You promised not to leave the flat." Ariel explained, sighing.

"And I didn't. I just went to the roof, which is technically part of the flat." Sherlock said.

"You know what I meant." She replied. Sighing, she added, "I just... It would have been nice if you would have left a note or something so John and I wouldn't have worried."

Sherlock huffed but didn't reply. Ariel sighed again, heading to he kitchen to make some tea and toast. She was famished. A minute latter, as she was buttering her toast, Ariel heard shuffling before long arms encircled her and a head rested on her shoulder.

"I'll leave a note next time." Was all Sherlock said before pulling away and returning to the living room. Ariel smiled. She knew that was as close to an apology as she would get, but somehow just that fact that he was at least attempting to right the wrongs was enough for her.

She made him tea, the mornings fiasco forgotten and an exciting case to look forward to. Setting Sherlock's cup on the table, Ariel curled up on the sofa, sipping her tea and grabbing a case file or two to read.

"So, are you going to tell me about the case?" She asked, eyes flicking over the page.

"Mmmm. Didn't you read the files last night?" Sherlock asked, perched on his chair.

"Sherlock, it was midnight and I was exhausted. How much information do you expect me to retain?" She chuckled out.

The corner of Sherlock's mouth twitched before he responded. "Three dead bodies. Nothing that links them."

"Nothing at all?" Ariel asked. There normal was at least something. Unusual locations, personal similarities, if not relationships, or even cause of death.

"Nothing." Sherlock replied, steepling his fingers under his chin. "Murder weapons were completely different, fatal wounds were in different spots, murdered on different dates."

"What makes the police think it's a triple homicide, or a serial killer?" Ariel asked, biting a piece from her toast. Sherlock looked thoughtful before leaping up.

"The thing about the police," He began, pacing again, "is that they can be incredibly stupid. They don't understand the common criminal."

"Oh? And you do?" Ariel teased. She loved it when Sherlock smirked in return.


	68. Preoccupying The Consulting Detective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Dark Antid0te for a wonderful suggestion, which is in near the end of the chapter. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Side note - if you do have an idea or there's something you want to see, let me know. I'm always looking for new things to throw in.

Chapter LXVIII

"So, a killer, or multiple killers, killed three people. None of them have any relation to each other. There is no connection to the location of the bodies, murder weapon or murder location. And no other evidence to go on." Ariel summarized.

"Yes, that's about the whole of it." Sherlock agreed, pacing again in living room. John had just finished yelling at Sherlock for disappearing, Ariel had defused the situation, more or less, and now the ex army doctor was currently making himself a cup of tea.

"So what exactly are we supposed to do? Guess?" John asked disgruntled as he sat in his chair.

"Of course not. As ever, John, there is obviously something in the clues that will tell us who the killer is." Sherlock retorted. John rolled his eyes, though it went unnoticed by the detective.

Ariel sighed and picked up the next case file, reading it over. Something little caught her eye. But surely that couldn't be the link. Could it? Ariel picked up the two other case files, and flipped them open. No, that couldn't be right.

"Sherlock..." Ariel drawled distractedly. The detective's head whipped around, pinning her with a fierce glare.

"I think I may have found your connection." She said, eyes still glued to the papers in front of her. Both Sherlock and John moved to see what she was looking at.

"See." Ariel said, pointing to some small print. "Each of the victims was killed on a Monday." John snorted beside her.

"Really? That's all we've got to go on? They were all killed on a Monday?" John asked in disbelief, falling limply on the sofa. "Well this is just great. We'll never solve it."

However, it seemed that Sherlock disagree, the detective already back in his thinking pose. He hummed in thought, oblivious to the conversation happening behind him.

"Why not? I'm sure you two have gone on less before. At least this is a solid connection." Ariel pointed out. John gave a disbelieving chuckle.

"Solid? What exactly is solid evidence about a death date?" John asked, shaking his head. He seemed to be mocking Ariel.

"Well they aren't likely to change, are they?" Ariel snapped back.

John sighed in resignation, not caring to argue his point. Taking a deep breath in order to calm herself, Ariel added, "What I mean is, I'm sure they are more than just coincidence."

At that moment John's phone began ringing. He hurriedly answered, leaving the room and conversing for maybe all of two minutes before hanging up.

"That was Lestrade wondering if there's been any progress." John announced, wandering back into the living room.

"Did you tell him about the connection?" Ariel asked, nose still buried in the files, looking for more clues. John thought she looked remarkably similar to the detective.

"What? That three victims were killed on a Monday? I hardly think that's anything to go on, other than proof that Mondays are awful." John said jokingly.

Ariel didn't seem amused. In fact, she fixed him with a glare that was somewhere between hurt and angry.

"Why didn't you tell him? John, do you realize these might not be the only three linked murders? There might be countless cold cases in the DI's office that are linked to these ones." Ariel scolded, clutching the files in her hand. John just shrugged.

"Until we have confirmed that's the link, I'm not sure we should be getting the whole of Scotland Yard to be looking for who was killed on a Monday." John replied.

"I guess you're right." Ariel sighed, compromising. It would do no good if John wasn't here to help, and Ariel didn't really want him to leave. Exactly thirty seconds of silence followed before Sherlock, eyes twinkling with the rush of a deduction, leapt at his jacket, threw it on and made for the door.

"Sherlock! Where are you going?" John asked, heaving himself to his feet to chase after  
the detective. Ariel scrambled to follow the whirlwind of Belstaff coat and chocolate curls.

"The yard. Need to see Lestrade." Sherlock said shortly as he bounded down the stairs.

"Why?" John asked, doing his best to keep up.

"Need to see him about some cold cases." Sherlock replied as the three poured onto the sidewalk and Sherlock hailed a cab.

Ariel shot John a triumphant smile, one that the doctor ignored. It was a small battle won, indeed. Twenty minutes crammed in the back of a cab and they arrived at New Scotland Yard. Sherlock briskly took the lead, weaving through the building with expertise as Ariel and John trundled behind. They arrived at Lestrade's office, much to the surprise of the DI.

"Sherlock. What can I do for you?" He asked, pleasantly enough.

"I need all the case files where the victim were killed on a Monday." Sherlock demanded. Lestrade gave him a blank look.

"Why?" He asked, stunned. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Because it's for the case." He drawled. Lestrade, knowing he wouldn't get a satisfactory answer from the consulting detective, turned a questioning look to Ariel and John.

"The only link we've been able to find is that all the victims were killed on a Monday." Ariel replied. Lestrade gave her a skeptical look, but seemed to accept her answer.

"Right. Well, I guess I'll have a team assembled and I'll get the files dropped off at Baker Street when they're ready." The DI said, scrubbing his face briefly. Sherlock gave him a condescending smile.

"Good. And do tell them to hurry, it's rather important." And with that, Sherlock dashed out of the office. Lestrade shook his head.

"I have no idea how you two put up with him." He said, leaning back in his chair. Ariel flashed the DI a grin before chasing after Sherlock, John right behind her. They finally caught up to Sherlock just outside the yard, where it looked like he was about to leave without them.

"Sherlock. Did we seriously just drive halfway across London for you to tell Lestrade you need some files?" John hissed angrily, grabbing Sherlock's sleeve and forcing him to look at the doctor. Sherlock gave him an intense glaze.

"Yes. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do." He snapped. John glared frustratedly at the retreating detective as the lanky figure climbed into a cab and drove off.

"Damn him." John spat out angrily. Ariel just rolled her eyes.

"Whining about it won't help. Come on, let's go." She replied, hailing a cab for them.

XXXXXXXX

"Ugh. What's taking them so long?" Sherlock complained for the umpteenth time.

"Be patient. You're going to have to wait." Ariel replied, trying to be as kind as she could.

"Wait? Waiting's boring." Sherlock replied, flopping onto the couch. John gave a long suffering sigh from his spot in his chair.

"Well next time you might want to consider that before you get Scotland Yard to dig through every bloody murder case they've ever had." He bit out.

It appeared that Sherlock was ignoring him, however, as the lanky detective sprawled on the couch like a pouting three year old. Silence stretched for awhile before John abruptly stood.

"I've got to go." He said, slipping into his jacket.

"Where?" Ariel asked, and Sherlock groaned from the sofa.

"The surgery. I've got a shift." John replied, opening the door.

"See you later." Ariel said smiling as the doctor left.

As soon as the door closed, she got to her feet and made for the kitchen. Kettle on, biscuits on a plate, Ariel puttered around the kitchen until the tea was ready. Waltzing into the living room, she set down the tray with two steaming cups and the plate of biscuits on the coffee table before heading back to her previous spot on Sherlock's chair.

"Bored." Sherlock whined, throwing his arm carelessly over his eyes. And that's the precise moment a rather fabulous idea came to Ariel. The blonde turned to Sherlock, stalking back over to the sofa and knelt precariously on the edge, looming over him.

"Sherlock," she all but purred, "I know how we can make time go faster. And make you not bored." Ariel leant down and gently kissed his exposed cheek. Sherlock shifted his arm slightly, just so he was able to look at her with both eyes.

"What did you have in mind?" He asked, eyebrows quirking up in question. Ariel just smirked and kissed him again, this time just on the corner of his mouth.

"Oh." Sherlock breathed out. Ariel giggled lightly as Sherlock rearranged himself under her to make room for her on the small sofa.

She leaned over him again, straddling his lap as Sherlock sat up somewhat to lean against the armrest. Ariel rested her forehead on his, smiling as she carded her fingers in his luscious curls. She just stroked, staring into his eyes as her own shimmered happiness. She let Sherlock set the pace as she gently brushed her lips against his.

Sherlock responded eagerly, moving up to keep her lips from retreating. Ariel giggled into his mouth as Sherlock wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down to meet his hungry lips. Ariel slid her lips lightly along his, simply teasing Sherlock.

After a few long, languid minutes of teasing, Sherlock groaned in frustration and darted his tongue along the seam of Ariel's lips. Groaning, she parted them, allowing Sherlock full access to her mouth. Which he made full use of, his tongue darting inside to taste and explore.

Every swipe of that nimble tongue was thorough, leaving Ariel with that warm feeling that at that moment, she was the sole focus of Sherlock's attention. After all, he was completely ravaging her mouth, reducing her to a pile of melted goo on top of him.

But that's the moment the tables started to turn, because Ariel decided to repay the favour. Sliding her tongue past his, she managed to wriggle her way into his mouth. Sherlock, being himself, couldn't just let her have dominance. This lead to an unfortunately intense battle between their tongues, which, while enjoyable and passionate, ultimately ended up in them gasping for air.

Of course, Sherlock had to speak his mind instead of take a breath.

"Was that "snogging"?" He asked, taking deep breaths. Ariel gave a breathless chuckle.

"Yeah, I believe most people would call that snogging. I prefer to call it 'preoccupying the world's only consulting detective'." She replied, a sly, playful grin on her face.

Sherlock's eyes widened as he got her unspoken message. His lips had time to quirk up at the corner before Ariel's lips met his again. This time though, Ariel pried her way into his mouth, opening it with a small, skilled tug of his hair, and her tongue delved inside. She revelled at the taste of him, so strong here in the deep wet cavern of his mouth.

Her hands wove through his curly hair as his found their way into hers. Ariel couldn't have been happier. She was literally snogging the life out of the love of her life while he did his best to repay the favour, all while more or less cuddling on the sofa in peace. No one at home, no interruptions... And that's when a familiar knock and happy chirp came from the door.

"You who!" Mrs. Hudson called, as she propped open the door. Ariel sat up, giving Sherlock room to do the same.

"Oh! Did I interrupt something?" The landlady asked as she watched the couple fumbling to sit up. Ariel turned and smiled at her, cheeks flushed, but otherwise unaffected.

"What do you want?" Sherlock snapped, clearly unhappy at the interruption.

"There's some officers downstairs for you." Mrs. Hudson replied. Sherlock's eyes lit up.

"Excellent. Send them up." He directed, standing and straightening his jacket. Ariel gave an affectionate eye roll at the him as Mrs. Hudson disappeared to send in the guests.

"What?" Sherlock asked, brow furrowed in confusion. Ariel grinned and giggled.

"Just you." She replied as the first of the officers entered. Sherlock sent her a warm smile before they got back to work.


	69. Leads to an End

Chapter LXIX

Three hours later, Sherlock had flipped through the nearly a hundred case files that the team of officers had dropped off earlier. Of course he had sorted them into piles depending on the particular way the victims were murdered.

In the hundred or so files, he had found six specific murder methods. He poured over them, no doubt sorting them further and storing every fact somewhere in his mind palace.

Ariel was content just to pick one file from each of the divisions and study the basic characteristics of the murders. So far, the different methods consisted of shot with a sniper riffle, obviously from a distance, shot with a hand gun, stabbed, almost every time in the back, poisoned with what forensics determined to be a blowdart, poisoned by hydrogen cyanid gas in the air ducts, and burned alive in a localized arson attack.

As Ariel flipped through the files, wondering at how the police force hadn't linked these crimes together in any form, she double checked the death dates. All of them were on a Monday. Those that could be accurately predicted - such as the poisonings and the arson - all proved to be at a particular time as well. "What is it with Monday nights?" Ariel wondered, flipping through the last few files.

"Anything?" Sherlock asked suddenly, snapping out of his mind palace. Ariel gave a half smile as he stalked over to her.

"A hundred victims, six different murder methods, and all on Monday evenings. This is starting to look like more than a few bad Mondays." Ariel replied, still reading the file.

"Mmmm, perfectly sound evidence, but I was rather hoping you'd have more." Sherlock replied, perching on the edge of the sofa. Ariel huffed a laugh as he kept his distance.

"You know, I won't bite if you sit closer." She mumbled, still reading.

"Ah, but you might try and distract me again, and that would be most inconvenient." He replied, grinning like a cat. Ariel rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Right. Well, in my professional opinion, I'd say we're looking at a small group of assassins." She said, changing the subject back to the case.

"Yes. Why?" Sherlock asked, fixing her with an intense gaze.

"Because in the few reports I did manage to read in the last few hours, each of the victims had at least one enemy that likely wanted them gone." Ariel replied.

"Good. Why a group and not a single assassin?" The detective asked.

"Because if it were a single assassin, the murders, while still likely ranging in method, would not be as specific as these are. After all, it is hard to kill a dozen people by stabbing them in the same spot four years apart if you are used to a sniper rifle." Ariel concluded. Sherlock's grin widened in approval.

"Excellent." He said, steepling his fingers under his chin. Ariel looked at him in surprise.

"Really?" She asked in disbelief. John had told her never to expect praise from this man, as it was rare and often used in sarcasm. Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at her suspicion.

"Of course. With John it's usually some half baked theory that misses out on half the evidence. Yours is at least much more inclusive." Sherlock said with a half grin.

"Thanks." Ariel said, thinking that was at least somewhat of a complement. At any rate, it was more than she expected. Returning to the files, they settled in a comfortable silence. And that's when something odd struck Ariel.

"Sherlock?" She asked, piquing the detective's interest. "Why are these all cold cases? I mean, even if the assassins couldn't be caught, surely the police could find enough evidence to arrest the conspirator?" Sherlock rolled his eyes beneath his eyelids.

"Do try to keep in mind that the police are made up entirely of idiots." He replied, eyes still shut.

"No, really Sherlock. Look at this one - the case was nearly closed, they had all the evidence needed to make an arrest, but it seems they just... stopped." Ariel insisted, confusion littering her tired features. Sherlock pushed himself up and hovered over her shoulder, reading the file from there. After a minute or so, he too gave a confused look at the offending piece of paper.

"I can only assume that someone paid off the investigators in order to shut them down. Or perhaps Scotland Yard may need to start doing an IQ test on their employees." Sherlock replied with a shrug. Ariel dismissed the latter comment and continued reading.

"Assassins who presumably only kill on Monday evenings..." She mumbled, mostly to herself as she read, but of course Sherlock heard.

"What?" He asked. Ariel ignored him in favour of continuing her duty. Sherlock sported a frown, but made no further inquiry. It was perhaps an hour later that Ariel snapped shut the file in her hand and stood up. The sudden motion and noise caused Sherlock to look at her, eyes fluttering open.

"Look, there's no point in both of us sitting here pouring over these files." Ariel said, walking towards the door and slipping on her shoes and jacket.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked evenly, watching her like a cat. Ariel smiled.

"Back to the yard. Going to see if I can get my hands on a phone or computer." She informed him with a mischievous wink. And with that she was out the door.

Sherlock flopped back, feeling oddly deflated. Why though? Because she hadn't asked him to go along? Why did that matter to him? It wasn't like he cared what she did... Right? Sherlock was rudely interrupted from him self analysis by the door opening again.

"Are you coming?" Ariel asked, head poking in and a big grin on her face. Sherlock just smiled and stood.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They arrived back at the flat an hour or so later, with Korean takeaway and multiple mobiles and laptops from the police, all of which had belonged to victims they were investigating. Ariel made Sherlock help her to haul all of the electronics up the stairs, but after that she seemed rather content to fiddle with the devices on her own.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked as he watched her rummage through the boxes, plugging things in and turning things on.

"Why don't you tell me?" She countered, plugging in a power bar and then fitting a charger for a mobile into every possible space. Sherlock took a moment.

"You're charging up the devices. Why?" He asked, but then immediately realized the answer. "Oh, of course. Because some of these devices have been sitting in a box for several years, meaning their battery power is most likely running out or empty."

"Excellent work, Einstein." Ariel chuffed, then added, "Don't say it."

Sherlock had, of course, opened his mouth to retort that Einstein, while giving us the theory of relativity along with other things, would not be able to have deduced why Ariel was laying out and charging multiple mobile phones, if he even knew what they were. Ariel gave Sherlock that look, the one that said 'really Sherlock?', even though he hadn't said a word.

"Right, so, I'll give those a bit to charge up, and I'll get started on the laptops." She said, standing upright and grabbing the box of computers.

"Where will you plug those into?" Sherlock asked, confused. Ariel smirked.

"There's a half dozen here the same brand as John's, which is currently plugged in over there." She said, pointing. "I unplug his, and plug in another one. Simple."

"Alright, but once you have power, how are you going to bypass the security?" Sherlock asked dumbly. Ariel's smirk widened.

"Well, some of these the police have already hacked. Those pass codes are written down in here." She replied smugly, waving a small notebook at him. "And the rest? Well, I'm feeling rather lucky today."

"You can't be serious. Even if you had memorized each profile, you would never be able to know enough about a victim to simply guess all their passwords." Sherlock scoffed.

"Ah, you see, that's where you're wrong. I only need to guess one." Ariel replied, smirking. Sherlock's brow furrowed as he leant over Ariel to see the screen of the current laptop, which had just begun booting up. Ariel had taken John's armchair, comfortably curling into it as she toyed with the laptop.

"How only one?" Sherlock asked curiously, intrigued by Ariel's confidence.

"You see, most people will leave themselves signed in to their email, which is the method most other sites use to help you recover a forgotten password. If you have access to an email, you can usually have access to any other site they visited." Ariel said, smiling up at Sherlock.

"There's only one flaw in that theory. What about an account that can't be recovered via email?" He asked. Ariel smirked again.

"Ever heard of a keychain?" She asked. "It's a place in the computer that stores passwords for sites. Some don't allow the keychain to save it, but they are very few. And, even if the site won't allow the use of the keychain, it has to be run through the keychain to be denied access. That means there's a copy of the password stored in the computer." Ariel explained. Sherlock shook his head, trying to make sense of the overload of data when a thought struck him.

"How are you so sure that you'll be able to even hack into the computer?" He asked.

"Simple. I enter the correct pass code." She replied, clicking on the 'Log In' icon that had now appeared. Sherlock scoffed.

"That's nearly impossible. I could do it, yes, given enough personal information, but you have done nothing more than read their profiles. How do you expect..." He was cut off by the sound of the computer accepting the password.

The screen shifted to a colourful background of what looked like paint splatters. Sherlock stood, mouth agape.

"Told you I could do it." Ariel said smugly, giving Sherlock a triumphant grin.

"How...?" Sherlock asked, for once, actually speechless. Ariel giggled.

"Did you honestly think that I spent my whole time working for the British government filing paperwork?" She asked snidely. When Sherlock didn't answer, she continued.  
"I may not have been a favourite, but I found my way into a few hacking courses." She smirked again as she hacked into the inner layers of software. "Even made a career out of it for a while."

Sherlock had perhaps the most annoyed and confused expression written on the lines of his face that Ariel had ever seen. No doubt he was berating himself for not seeing her skills earlier, questioning how he'd missed it.

"Don't beat yourself up. I wouldn't be doing my job if you were bored with me." She quipped, smiling up at him. Sherlock gave her a half grin.

"I shall never be bored with you." He said plainly, walking back to his chair and flopping down in it. Ariel's smile widened as she continued to work.

They fell into comfortable silence as she worked, hacking and reading relevant information, and Sherlock pondered over the files a bit more, linking information. The detective was jolted from his thoughts, however, by the sudden exclamation of his computer-hacking counterpart.

"Ah ha! Finally, something worth reading." Ariel said excitedly, turning the screen to show Sherlock. The consulting detective leaned forward, squinting to read the small text.

"Three of these victims were connected, two of which were both suspects in the death of the other one. And look what we have here." Ariel continued smugly. "A wonderful, deleted, email conversation between victim and killer. Is that a good enough lead?"

Sherlock grinned devilishly in the low light of the late afternoon sun.

"Oh, yes!" He exclaimed excitedly, leaping from his chair to grab the laptop, reading the information further. Out of pure excitement and adrenaline, he kissed her cheek before dashing off to read her discovery. Smiling at her detective, she went to make tea.


	70. Candlelight

Chapter LXX

"Lestrade, can you trace this email?" Ariel asked the DI over the phone. She heard a sigh on the other end and a ruffling of papers.

"I can try. But don't hold out to much hope." The officer said on the other end.

"I won't." She replied. Another sigh.

"Right. I'll send someone to come pick up the computer. I can't do it remotely, unfortunately." He said, sounding tired.

"Thank you, Lestrade." She responded, hanging up. Sherlock's head popped up.

"What did Gavin say?" He asked, eyes darting between Ariel and the screen in front of him. The blueish light gave him an other worldly look, Ariel thought.

"Gavin? You mean Greg?" She asked. Sherlock just hummed and waved his hand, telling her to get on with it.

"He's sending someone over to pick it up. Says they should be able to track it." Ariel informed him, flopping down into the armchair. Sherlock hummed again in acknowledgement. Ariel stared a moment, before an idea popped in her head.

She quickly picked up one of the earlier discarded phones, checking the contact list. A bright smile appeared on her face as the links formed perfectly in her mind.

"Well, no point sitting around waiting. You hungry?" She asked, standing up and heading for the door. She could feel Sherlock's deductive gaze on her as she put her coat on.

"Of course I'm not." He said carefully, mind working. Ariel smiled kindly at him.

"That's a shame. I really thought we could go to this restaurant. Oh well, perhaps you have a better idea?" She teased. Sherlock responded by frowning, which only made Ariel's smile widen. When she'd had enough of teasing him, she tossed the curly haired detective the unlock mobile, which was still currently open to the contact. Sherlock caught it easily enough and after a quick read, stood himself.

"I believe that dinner does sound rather... interesting." He replied, a quirky half smirk on his face. Ariel felt that was his way of saying 'nice work', as it had become a regular look she was getting from him. With a smile and a flash of Belstaff coat, the two of them were off to a high end restaurant in Soho, at which the previous coworker of one of the victims was to be celebrating her recent promotion with her superiors.

XXXXXXX

"Do we have a plan?" Ariel asked, as they rode in the back of the cab.

"Well, we have a picture of the suspect, which will do us wonders in identifying her, and as always, my deduction skills." Sherlock replied, watching the city pass by.

"So, in other words, we don't have a plan." Ariel said with an amused chuckle.

"In the strictest terms? No, but that doesn't exclude us from coming up with one, should we need it." Sherlock retorted. Ariel actually laughed at that.

"What you're actually saying is, Sherlock Holmes will make it up as he goes along." She giggled out. Sherlock gave her a hurt and affronted look, which made her attempt at least to smother her giggles.

When the cab was quiet again, she asked,

"Right, ok. Are we at least going to have a cover?" Sherlock seemed to perk up at that.

"Hmmm, I suppose we should. Couple is out, if I want to have a chance at getting close to her... Perhaps you could be my assistant?" He asked. If Ariel hadn't known him better, she may very well have taken offence, or at least be slightly worried, by his comment. But, knowing the genius detective as she did, his statement didn't phase her.

"Fine. Do we have a story?" She asked, pulling out the mobile from the victim. The picture of the older brunette was still on there. Thalia Moor: recently been promoted to a job the victim was likely to get. Typical.

"I believe that if you pretend to be sending out important information, which I am  
directing to you, while I eat a ludicrous meal, it should be fine. We will be under the pretences that I was famished but had important business, and thus we compromised." Sherlock explained dully. Ariel spluttered for a moment.

"You mean... You're actually going to eat?" She asked, disbelievingly.

"For the sake of the case, yes." He replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. They fell quiet for a moment, and Ariel decided to prepare her disguise. Although, it wasn't so much a disguise as a change in hairstyle, but still, it helped her look the part.

She pulled out her phone, using the camera a mirror and smiled. It was the best pinned up hair do she'd ever pulled off in the back of a cab. Sherlock didn't even look at her the rest of the cab ride, which gave Ariel a chance to get into character.

The cab pulled up to the fancy restaurant, and Ariel clamoured to get out and open the door for Sherlock. The detective gave her a curious raise of the eyebrow but said nothing as he buttoned up his Belstaf coat and headed inside. Ariel trailed behind him, holding open doors and generally playing her role.

"May I help you, sir?" A young man, no more than twenty five, asked as Sherlock and Ariel approached the reception area.

"Yes, I would like a table." He said, looking around with an air of importance. When the young man looked nervous, Sherlock flashed him a charming smile and added, "Mycroft Holmes sent me." At that, the waiter broke out into a grin.

"Of course. Right this way." He said, leading Sherlock and the trailing Ariel to a table.

Sitting down graciously, Sherlock looked like a member of royalty; flinging his giant coat over the back of his chair, sitting with perfect posture, his cheeks rosy from the crisp air outside. Ariel shook herself. Act the part. She was thought as she sat down.

"Can I get you something to drink, sir? Madame?" The waiter asked as he handed them their menus. Sherlock gave Ariel a look.

"I'll have a glass of sherry." Sherlock replied shortly, digging his nose into his menu as the waiter looked expectantly over at Ariel. She smiled politely.

"Just water, thanks." She replied, setting her menu down and pulling out her mobile. The waiter nodded and left.

"Sir, your client is becoming impatient. It is not wise to keep him waiting." Ariel said, fitting seamlessly into her role.

"It is not your position to tell me to hurry up. Besides, he can wait until after I've had some form of sustenance." Sherlock replied bluntly. Ariel straightened, looking for all the world as if she really were a rebuked assistant. A quick look around to make sure they weren't within ear distance. Opening the menu, Ariel pitched her voice low.

"Have you seen the suspect?" She asked, pretending to surf the list of foods. Sherlock gave a noncommittal hum.

"I believe I saw her heading into the restroom, but I didn't see her face." He commented lowly. Ariel gave a slight nod as she thought and changed the subject.

"Did you just use your brother's name to get in here?" She asked in disbelief.

"It does become... useful, sometimes." Sherlock answered dismissively. Then he added, "Don't ever tell him about it." Ariel giggled, but she nodded and stood, drawing Sherlock's attention reluctantly from his menu. There was a small pause where she just smiled gleefully at Sherlock, eyes twinkling in delight.

"Excuse me sir, I must make a trip to the ladies room." She said with a small smile. Sherlock allowed himself to watch her leave the table before returning his attention to the menu. After a few short minutes, the waiter returned with their beverages and took Sherlock's order.

"And is there anything for the lady?" He asked Sherlock, who gave him a bored look.

"No. She said she wasn't hungry." He replied, feigning politeness. The waiter nodded, made his excuses and left.

The detective waited patiently, picking some fluff off his trousers and watching the patrons come and go. What on earth is taking Ariel so long? He wondered, checking his watch for the third time. Of course, not more than four minutes had passed since she'd left, but still, how long could it possibly take? And that's when Sherlock caught sight of her.

Not Ariel, but the suspect, Thalia Moor. She was sitting at a table surrounded by five other people of varying ages and of both genders. Her superiors. Sherlock deduced as he tried to formulate a plot to get near her. So far, his general plan was to get close enough to nick her phone, which would most likely contain the correspondence with the assassins.

But how was he to get that close? A brilliant little idea formulated in his mind. What if he could flirt his way into a back alley make out session? He would definitely have access to her mobile at some point between now and then. Of course, Sherlock intended to not have to kiss her, but he would do it for the sake of the case. So, putting on his most charming smile, Sherlock sauntered over to the table.

"Excuse me, madame, but I couldn't help but notice your stunning smile. Care to join me for dinner?" He said charmingly with a flutter of eyelashes. All at the table looked up at him, some with disgust, others with indifference, but the suspect was looking with definite interest. One of the older women there sent Thalia a knowing look.

"Pardon me sir, but we were just wrapping up with dear Thalia here. Give her one moment and she is free to join you for a proper dinner." The elder woman said. Thalia looked embarrassed.

"Mrs. Hartman..." She pleaded, but the elder lady would have none of it.

"Nonsense. We've only had coffee and you deserve a good meal with a handsome gentleman. After all, you really should celebrate properly." Mrs. Hartman insisted. Thalia just gave her a modest smile before turning back to Sherlock.

"Please, give me a moment." She asked, to which the detective nodded and stood by, doing his best to plaster his best head over heels expression on his face. A few quick words later, Thalia pushed herself from her seat and walked with Sherlock back to his table.

As she got comfortable, she smiled awkwardly and said,

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe I caught your name." Sherlock grinned charmingly.

"William." He replied. Thalia smiled again.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Thalia." She replied. At that moment, Ariel decided to appear.

"Excuse me, sir, but you didn't tell me you were inviting a lady friend along." She said in her best assistant voice. Sherlock tried to give her a certain look.

"I didn't know it myself until I saw here. Now if you don't mind, Cherie, I will no longer be needing your services tonight." He replied. Ariel had a perfectly schooled face, but Sherlock could see the uncertainty that lie beneath it.

"Sir, your client needs you to finish this document by tomorrow. You can't possibly mean..." She began, but was cut off by Sherlock clearing his throat pointedly.

"Cherie, I will remind you that I am in charge. Now, leave me for the evening." He rebuked her. Ariel's eyes traveled down to the floor in shame.

"Of course, sir. Goodnight, sir." She said with a shallow bow before walking out of the restaurant and into the hidden part of the reception area.

She watched for the rest of the evening as Sherlock dined and charmed the suspect, as the woman giggled and flirted back. Ariel suppressed the urge to go over and take what was hers. She knew Sherlock was just acting, trying to get information, but yet she couldn't help the rage that lit in her when Sherlock gently caressed Thalia's hand and murmured something in her ear.

From behind the reception desk, Ariel watched as Sherlock lead the enamoured girl out of the restaurant. Following behind them, Ariel watched helplessly as Sherlock crowded her against the wall of a nearby ally, kissing her neck as she wound her filthy, manicured fingers into his hair.

Ariel saw Sherlock wriggle the woman's mobile from her coat pocket, but that fact was lost on her by the lustful smirks painted on both their faces.


	71. Supposed to Be Mine

Chapter LXXI

That was it. Ariel had seen more than enough. Ducking back around the corner, she began to call out in her assistance voice.

"Sir? Sir! Where are you sir? It's Cherie with some important information!" She called as she approached the alley. She had made sure to give Sherlock enough time to act embarrassed and put some distance between him and the vile wench. Ariel rounded the corner and saw them, a few feet apart and the traces of their activities clearly written on they're flushed cheeks. Sherlock looked up at her.

"Yes, what is it?" He asked, his tone somewhere between embarrassed and annoyed.

"I'm sorry sir, but you are needed back at the office. It's an emergency." Ariel replied, trying her best to avoid letting her rage slip into her voice. Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Yes, alright." He replied before turning to Thalia. "Sorry my dear, but duty calls."

"Go." She giggled out, resting a hand suggestively on Sherlock's shoulder. "You will call me, yeah?" Sherlock lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it.

"Of course." He purred before strutting towards Ariel. The two walked back to the main road and got a cab. The journey was silent at first, Ariel stewing over Sherlock's flirtatious acts with the other woman and Sherlock deducing something, though Ariel wasn't sure what.

That was, until Sherlock produced the suspects phone, tossing it in the air a few times with a smirk nestled on his face. Every time the soft thud of the mobile hitting Sherlock's palm rang through the cab, Ariel got more and more furious until finally, she simply snapped. She snatched the piece of machinery in mid air and threw it to the cab floor.

"Excuse me -" Sherlock started, annoyed. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the look on Ariel's face. She may have looked rather composed to anyone else, but Sherlock saw the proverbial fire in her eyes.

"Don't." She warned, an unspoken threat to keep him quiet. Of course, Sherlock couldn't leave her alone long enough for her to squelch the fiery jealousy in her stomach.

"What? Why on earth could you possibly be mad at me this time? I got the job done - Oh, is that it? You wanted to be the one to get the mobile?" Sherlock asked, puzzled. Ariel was now fighting to keep from punching the detective.

"No." She gritted out. She knew her fist was clenched at her side, hidden from Sherlock's sight, but she couldn't relax it.

"Then what is it? Surely you can't be mad at the fact I ate - Ooof!" Sherlock's aloof voice ended with an angry swing from Ariel, which landed squarely on his chest. When he recovered enough to look at her, his face was covered in confusion.

"What... was that for?" He asked, straightening up again. Ariel's eyes burned into him.

"You know exactly what for. Maybe you overlooked it in that colossal brain of yours, or maybe it's because of your mechanical heart." She hissed, turning away. It took Sherlock all of two seconds to connect the pieces together.

"You're... hurt... Because of what I did with that girl?" Sherlock stated, though it sounded much more like a question. Ariel glared at him.

"No, not at all." She sang sarcastically before shouting, "Of course I am, you stupid idiot!" Sherlock reeled almost as if she had hit him again. This wasn't a side of Ariel he'd seen before, nor that he intended to see again.

"You're jealous. But why? I don't care for her." Sherlock said, trying to puzzle it out aloud.

"Oh no? And yet you went and basically snogged her in an alley!" Ariel shouted. She knew rationally that Sherlock was simply playing his part, but damn her if she wasn't going to react emotionally to seeing... that. Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"But I only did it to gain access to her phone. And I didn't "snog" her, as you so crudely put it, I simply distracted her long enough to obtain the mobile." Sherlock explained.

"Yeah, well..." Ariel huffed out, all the anger leaving her. She was still mad, but now it was more of a regret, something she wanted to run from, than the blazing anger of a moment ago. She turned away from Sherlock again, trying to keep the emotional storm to herself.

Sherlock watched her silently, studied her. He knew enough about human nature to know that Ariel was more than a bit upset, jealousy mixed with anger, hurt and sadness probably, and that all of this emotional response was elicited from Sherlock pecking the cheek of that other girl. But he couldn't figure out why. Sure, he'd done it, but both him and Ariel knew it was simply an act, a mask put on to get what they wanted.

Sherlock didn't actually care about that woman. In fact, he'd deleted almost everything about her, except for a few key details that might help them catch the assassins. So why was Ariel all worked up? She was jealous, obviously, but why? Sherlock honestly couldn't figure it out at the moment, so he did the only thing he knew would comfort Ariel - he rested his hand gently on her shoulder.

She let it rest their for a moment before shrugging it off with a mumbled, "Not now, Sherlock." The remainder of the cab ride was deafeningly silent. They pulled up to Baker Street and Ariel dashed out of the cab so fast Sherlock was worried. He quickly paid the cabbie and followed the retreating form of Ariel into 221b.

She headed up to his flat, which Sherlock thought odd, but didn't argue with at this point. Once inside, Sherlock hung up his Belstaff coat and kicked the door shut before turning around. What he expected to find was Ariel brooding on the sofa, perhaps even giving him a deadly glare. What Sherlock did not expect was to be attacked by the same girl, who shoved him against the wall and furiously claimed his lips.

Sherlock was too startled to react at first, and Ariel used that to her full advantage, prying her way into his mouth and plundering it with ferocious swipes of her tongue. Sherlock just let her have her way with him, reciprocating as much as possible in his position. A moment later, Ariel pulled back, panting as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes met Sherlock's, who was giving her a questioning stare.

"Sorry. That was uncalled for." She said, looking away. Sherlock's brows furrowed.

"Not necessarily. It was rather... enjoyable." He replied. Ariel stepped back, turning away.

"Maybe, but I shouldn't have done that, not without your permission, anyway." She said, guiltily. Sherlock grabbed her, mind finally placing all the pieces of the puzzle together.

"You were mad, jealous, because I went and kissed another girl." He started and Ariel just nodded, head still turned away. "You weren't mad because I did what I had to, you knew I didn't care about her, but you still got angry. Why?"

"You might not understand Sherlock." Ariel said quietly. The detective tilted her head to force her to look at him. Her eyes were heavy with emotions; guilt, anger, and uncertainty dulling the normally sparkly blue eyes.

"I would at least like to try." He replied. The girl in his arms gave him a soft smile.

"You're supposed to be mine. No one else gets to share moments like this with you, but me. When you... did that, I felt like she was taking you away from me, even though I knew you didn't care about her. Like, she was taking a part of you that was supposed to be mine. It's hard to explain, but it hurt me." Ariel explained gently. Sherlock gave a slight nod. He actually did understand.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you, Ariel. And I am yours. Truly yours." He replied softly, his deep baritone like distant thunder. He leant down the small distance to place a gentle kiss to her forehead. Ariel's eyes fell closed as she sighed into the warm press of his lips on her skin.

"I'm sorry. I overreacted. I shouldn't have been watching, it's just..." Ariel started apologizing, but Sherlock silenced her with a simple look. It was one that conveyed so much more than words ever could. It was one that said "I'm sorry" and "I love you" and "Forgive me" all at once.

Ariel just smiled and wrapped her arms around him. They didn't need to speak, not now, because they understood one another. Ariel felt tiredness wash over her, and she entertained the brief thought that maybe Sherlock would let her spend the night curled up at his side. She was broken from her daydream by a sudden voice.

"You two ok?" John asked as he walked into the living room from the direction of his bedroom. Ariel couldn't hide the slight blush on her cheeks at what John must think.

"Yeah, we're fine." She said, stepping back from Sherlock and smiling at John. The good doctor gave a suspicious look between the two.

"Right. I hope we didn't interrupt anything." He said, still slightly uncomfortable at having seen a clearly distressed Ariel cuddling into Sherlock. This time, both of the couple in question gave John a reassuring grin.

"You didn't." Sherlock assured him. However, that didn't comfort the doctor.

"Right. Well. I just came to grab some tea and watch telly." John announced, suspicion clearly still written on his face.

"Sounds good." Ariel said. "Do you have anything in to eat? I'm starving."

"Uh, I believe we still have some edible bread, meat and cheese. Other than that, I doubt it." John replied as he wandered into the kitchen.

"Thanks. Unlike some people, I actually didn't get to have dinner tonight." Ariel said thankfully to John while making a bit of a jab at Sherlock. With a wink at the detective, she followed John into the kitchen. Sherlock curled up in his arm chair, flicking on the telly to find something suitable for his intellect as well as the rest of them. Ariel went about making a sandwich while John put the kettle on to boil.

"What is it John?" Ariel asked over her shoulder. "I can feel you brewing from here." John started, a bit concerned as how much he was being read here in his own home.

"I'm just worried about you and Sherlock." He replied as nonchalantly as possible. He heard Ariel giggle faintly.

"We had a bit of a row, but we're fine now." She replied rather cheerfully.

"Oh? What happened?" John asked quietly, aware Sherlock could probably hear their conversation, though he doubted he was paying attention. Ariel hesitated a moment before she answered.

"He just, well, he romanced his way with a suspect to get what we needed for the case, without telling me his plan." She answered.

"Well, that's Sherlock. He will always leave you out of the loop." John replied.

"True enough. But I would have liked a heads up to keep from walking in on a make out session." Ariel responded dryly. John gave her a look of utter disbelief.

"He didn't..." John trailed off, unable to bring himself to say the words. Ariel hummed.

"Mmmm, he did. Don't worry John, I shouted at him. And hit him." She said, a bit of a cringe at the memory. The doctor looked angry.

"That stupid git. I told him..." John raged, but Ariel stopped him.

"John please, calm down. We worked it out, he even said sorry. It's all good now." She pleaded. "Just... Get your tea and come watch telly with us. You need to relax." John sighed heavily, trying his best to calm down. He gave her a smile a moment later.

"You're right. I just need to relax and watch some crap telly." He replied, scooping up his mug. Ariel gave him a fond smile and grabbed her own tea, as well as Sherlock's and her dinner. She sat herself on the sofa and John took his chair, which had been neatly arranged around the telly. Sherlock complained when John changed the channel.

"Do we have to watch this stupid car show?" He whined.

"We can stop watching Top Gear when you can tell me the name, model and stats of every car they show before they have a chance to say them." Ariel said, effectively silencing the detective.

It was a couple of hours later as John returned from the loo, he saw them curled up on the sofa together. Sherlock's head rested in Ariel's lap as she lazily stroked his curls, eyes on the tv. Sherlock's eyes were closed as if he was thinking. John pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of them before returning to his chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Any suggestions? Please, leave a review and let me know!


	72. Sleepy Detectives and Ciphers

Chapter LXXII

A warm, sleepy smile crossed Ariel's face as her eyes opened to reveal that she was curled up next to Sherlock in his bed. The pale, early morning English sun poured through the gap in the curtains and caused the green coloured walls to glow.

Ariel would have been quite content to lay here all morning, listening to the sounds of the city outside waking up and Sherlock's deep, sleepy breaths. She was just dozing off again when an annoyingly loud buzz from her phone echoed through the room. Not only did it jolt Ariel awake, but it also roused Sherlock, who seemed rather annoyed.

"Who on earth is that?" He mumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the majority of light. Ariel moved resentfully towards the phone and picked it up, checking her texts. With a groan, she flopped back on the bed.

"It's Lestrade. Said they can't trace the email." She mumbled, desperately clinging to the edges of sleep. Ariel wanted nothing more than to spend the morning in bed.

"Mmmm. Means we'll have to break into the phone after all. As long as it isn't broken." Sherlock grumbled from under his arm. Ariel tiredly hit him, annoyed that he was bringing up when she threw it yesterday. Sherlock didn't even flinch.

"Right, well, better get up then, yeah?" She asked, mentally steeling herself to open her eyes wide and leave the warm embrace of the sheets along with the comfortable weight of Sherlock beside her. Sherlock grunted in reply to her, but otherwise did nothing.

Ariel sat up, eyes opening tiredly after she rubbed them. She sat there a moment, mind awakening from the hazy slumber. When Sherlock didn't stir, she nudged him hard.

"Come on genius, we've got work to do." Ariel said, flipping her half of the covers over Sherlock as she climbed out of bed. The consulting detective still didn't move. That's when a plot formed in Ariel's mind.

Smiling menacingly, she walked around the end of the bed until she was standing beside the dozing man. In one quick motion, she bent down to kiss his cheek, which Sherlock hummed into. Ariel's hands, however, had an evil motive. They grabbed onto the large blanket and tore it away from Sherlock's body, causing him to curl up on himself in a vain attempt to retain the heat. He scowled up at her as Ariel's lips retreated and she stood giggling at his bedside. He looked like an angry cat who had just been dunked in water.

"I said, we have work to do." She snickered as she left him and made her way to the kitchen. John was already up, sitting quietly in the living room with a cup of tea and the remains of toast as he read the newspaper.

"Morning." Ariel called out as she filled the kettle up again and put it back on.

"Morning." John replied, flipping the page of his paper. Ariel went about making her breakfast before returning to Sherlock's room to check on the detective. She rapped her knuckles loudly on the door.

"Sherlock, come on." She pleaded loudly through the door.

"I'm up." A rough voice grumbled out. "And I'm getting dressed."

"Have a shower first, you'll feel better." Ariel replied before returning to her breakfast, which she carried into the living room and ate at the table there. While she enjoyed her food, she texted Lestrade back.

"Alright, thanks for tying. -AH" She honestly hadn't expected them to be able to trace it. After all, it was fairly old. Ariel smirked to herself as she heard the water turn on in the bathroom, and John looked up at her rather curiously.

"So, how's Sherlock handling domestic life?" He asked, a hint of smugness in his voice.

"If you're suggesting we have a conventional, domestic relationship, you obviously don't know Sherlock." Ariel retorted. John shook his head, grinning.

"That's not what I meant. What I meant was that Sherlock is usually so against 'normal  
life' and what 'normal people do' that it must be... well, a bit of a shock to his system to have a relationship." John replied, trying not to smirk. Ariel laughed.

"I suppose he probably hasn't realized that we're doing what ordinary people do. But to be honest, John, he's not that unlike any other man I've known. Well, apart from being a bloody genius and solving murders." Ariel said with a tinkling giggle. She held her tongue, though she wanted to say more. John of course noticed her hesitation and prompted her to speak her mind.

"What is it?" John asked, curiously. Steeling herself, Ariel responded.

"It's just... He's still a man, you know. He still craves to be touched, to be told he's amazing, to be held and kissed and loved." Ariel looked sad as she continued. "But it's so obvious there's damage that has made him lock that all away. There was something that made him decided to restrict his human side. I just... I want to show him that it's ok to show it to me." She looked away from John, staring out the window onto Baker Street. "I love him, and I want him to trust me."

It was a moment before John spoke.

"I understand. Being a man myself, however, it's hard to use those particular terms." John replied, a slight chuckle to lighten the mood. "And, if I'm honest, of all the people who have traipsed into Sherlock's life since I've been here, you're the only one who's actually stuck around long enough to really notice that about him. Which is an accomplishment all of it's own." John chuckled again as a thought occurred to him.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I think getting him to hold you like he did last night was the most human I've ever seen him." Ariel smiled and gave a light chuckle.

"Yeah, he's not like that often, I will admit. But those few times when he is, I know he means them, and that makes every moment of waiting in between worthwhile." She replied.

John gave her a warm smile as he took a moment to wonder how long she had thought those things. As far as he knew, Ariel had no friends outside of himself and Sherlock, which meant that she probably didn't talk about girl stuff with anyone, save for maybe Mrs. Hudson. And it was likely she didn't confide so much in Sherlock, as he was dismissive of emotions most of the time, which only left John in her life for her to actually talk to about stuff.

The ex army doctor was about to mention this fact when he felt the swooping presences of the consulting detective as he entered the living room and flopped down onto the sofa in nothing more than a pair of pyjama bottoms and a dressing gown. John was grateful for small mercies, as at least Sherlock wasn't wearing a sheet. Maybe Ariel had affected his life more than he originally thought.

"Where's the phone?" Sherlock asked gruffly as he toyed with the belt of his dressing gown. Ariel looked up at him with mild amusement.

"I believe you put it in your coat pocket last night." She replied, smiling graciously.

"John? Pass me it, would you?" Sherlock sighed out, abandoning his endeavour. Ariel raised a questioning eyebrow and the two of them seemed to have a silent conversation until Sherlock consented.

"Please?" He asked John begrudgingly. John for his part was fairly obliging, getting the phone and tossing it to the lounging detective. Sherlock grunted in thanks before toying with the phone, attempting to unlock it.

He got passed the primary code, but was rather frustrated when he encountered a secondary pass code on the phones email. He tried to hack into it for several minutes, typing this and that, but eventually gave up with a frustrated groan. Without a word, Ariel got up, grabbed the phone, typed in something and tossed it back to Sherlock as she made her way to the kitchen to deal with her dishes.

Sherlock picked up the phone and noticed Ariel, in those few short seconds, had managed to bypass the code. Amazed but completely focused, he set about trying to find the correspondence with the assassin group. He spent the better part of the morning searching for it until, ready to give up, he stumbled across it.

Under an unassuming subheading with someone who never appeared before or after in the suspects inbox, hidden deep within her deleted mail, was an email that appeared to be nothing more than a broken web link, but Sherlock knew different. He showed the message triumphantly to John and Ariel.

"So... What? It's just a web link." John huffed out, handing the mobile back to Sherlock.

"John's right. It's not exactly as helpful as we'd like." Ariel added, frowning. Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically.

"That's exactly what an idiot would think. Luckily, I am not an idiot and understand just how valuable this seemingly broken web link is." Sherlock replied, smirking triumphantly. An extra beat of silence past before John spoke up again.

"Care to share it with us, Mr. Genius?" He asked patiently with a deep breath. Sherlock's eyes flickered with excitement as he prepared to share his deduction.

"Have either of you ever seen a link like that before?" Sherlock asked, again showing it to his slower counterparts. It contained weird symbols and a series of numbers.

"Can't say I have." John replied. "So?"

"Oh..." Ariel breathed out as understanding dawned on her. "I see."

"I don't. What is it?" John huffed, completely lost. Ariel smirked at Sherlock before leaning up to press her lips to his cheek.

"You really are brilliant." She whispered reverently.

"I do try." Sherlock replied, chuckling slightly as his eyes sparkled with the praise.

"Excuse me, but I still don't know what's going on." John interrupted. Ariel spun around, smiling widely as she took the phone from Sherlock's hand to show the doctor.

"You see these symbols? They aren't a link. They're made to look like a link, but they're really part of a pig pen cipher. Right, Sherlock?" She explained. Sherlock hummed in approval as he stalked across the room.

"Exactly." He said, flopping back down onto the sofa. John still looked confused.

"So, you're saying this is a coded message? One we have to decipher?" He asked.

"Yes. Now if you're done asking questions, do shut up." Sherlock snapped. John rolled his eyes and turned to Ariel.

"One more question. I understand how he knew," John said, a slight head nod in Sherlock's direction, "but how did you know it was a cipher?" Ariel seemed to blush.

"One of my many interests. Cryptography is a fascinating study." She explained, sitting down again, though this time she shoved Sherlock over so she could sit on the sofa. He looked a bit put out, but curled up in a ball beside her none the less. John just smirked to himself. Every time he discovered a new piece of information about Ariel, it seemed to fit so well with Sherlock and his personality.

"Sherlock? We have a problem." Ariel said a moment later, gently nudging the detective.

"What?" He questioned gruffly, obviously annoyed at having been disturbed.

"With pig pen ciphers, you need to have the base letters." She replied. Sherlock gave her a blank look, obviously not making the connection. Ariel sighed.

"We don't have the base letters." She explained. Sherlock opened his mouth, forming a prefect 'O' for a brief moment before he clasped his hands in front if his face, thinking for a moment before his eyes lit up with an idea.

"Very true." He said, taking the phone from her. John looked extremely put out. Again.

"Pardon me, again, but what are we going to do if we don't have the base letters? We can't solve this with out it." He asked, annoyed. Sherlock gave him a funny look.

"Well, our suspect had to have them in order to decrypt the message. Meaning, they are likely to be on her phone as well." He said, cocking his head at John. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not to me, it isn't." John huffed as he stood to put the kettle on. Sherlock rolled his eyes at his back before he began his completely thorough search of the phone. Ariel smiled at him, working hard, before getting to her feet to help John in the kitchen. She just hoped that the base letters would be on the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Can't wait to see what happens next? Have a request? Please do not hesitate from telling me with either a comment or a pm! Thank you so much!


	73. The Pieces of the Puzzle

**Chapter LXXIII**

"Ergh!" Sherlock exclaimed frustratedly several hours later, tossing the phone down onto the sofa. The sun was beginning to set on the London skyline and John had gone for a walk half an hour ago, leaving Ariel to deal with the stumped detective.

"Have you gone through every file?" She asked calmly, placing Sherlock's dinner in front of him. He gave it a moment of curiosity staring before answering her.

"Of course." He grumbled out, flopping onto his back on the sofa dramatically.

"Have you gained access to the deleted files?" Ariel asked, picking up her own dinner and sitting in Sherlock's armchair. He glared at her sideways from his spot.

"Yes, of course I have." He huffed out.

"Have you decrypted the deleted files?" Ariel asked, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she looked up at Sherlock. The detective had a bit of a pout on as he reached for the phone and began tapping away at it again.

 _You're welcome_. Ariel thought with a smirk as she dug into dinner. Of course, she didn't expect Sherlock to thank her, but at least she had helped. Sherlock flopped back on the sofa, arm over his face in defeat a few minutes later, evidently due to lack of the file they were in search of.

"No luck?" Ariel asked, getting up to put her now empty dish in the sink.

"You know I do not believe in luck." Sherlock growled out in disdain.

"And you know what I meant, genius." She replied sweetly, perching in the edge of the sofa to give the phone a look herself. Sherlock huffed again.

"No, I did not find the file." He replied, sitting up. "But why? It should have been there. It's evident that the assassins talked to her via email, why isn't the file containing the base letters in her phone?"

"That's probably because they aren't there." Ariel replied, putting the phone down. "Look Sherlock. You've checked through the phone thoroughly and systematically, knowing you. And I've just check through it. It's not there to be found."

She rested her hand on Sherlock's shoulder, half expecting to be shrugged away. But he didn't try to move it.

"There are two other possibilities. One, they no longer exist or two, there is a physical copy in her flat somewhere." Sherlock grumbled. Ariel rubbed a soothing circle on his shoulder as she replied,

"Well, I guess we better find a way to get into her flat then, huh?" Sherlock shook his head dismissively

"Of course not. I have people for that." He said, flipping his hands. "In fact..." He trailed off, picking up his phone and typing away furiously. Ariel smiled fondly at her detective as he worked hard.

It was amazing to watch his brain work, thoughts and deductions obviously coming in a mile a second. She was surprised when Sherlock put his phone down and lay down across her lap. Ariel smiled at him, slipping her right hand down to intertwine their fingers and her left to softly stoke his hair. Sherlock hummed in appreciation as his eyes drifted close, entering his mind palace.

Ariel figured he was probably trying to decipher the pig pen cipher without the base letters, but she knew as well as he did that it was impossible. There were thousands of combinations, with ten times as many possible out comes. The likelihood of finding the correct decoding without the base letters was, as stated, impossible. But as Ariel stared down at her beloved detective, she knew that if anyone could do it, it would be him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

John opened the door of 221b and was meet with a sight that was both strange and oddly pleasant. Sherlock was laid across Ariel's lap, apparently asleep, while Ariel watched the telly with the sound off.

She looked up and, seeing John standing in the doorway, held her finger up to her mouth, telling him to be quiet. John did his best to quietly arrange his things, get a beer from the fridge and settle into his chair. He gave Ariel a questioning look, which she answered in a hushed tone.

"I think he's asleep." She whispered.

(Another lovely piece by the even lovelier [Johix](http://johix.tumblr.com)!!)

 

J ohn just nodded, turning his attention to the television screen and watching the program with scrolling subtitles. It was a good half an hour later that Sherlock stirred, stretching like a cat as he woke from his nap.

"Hey sleepy." Ariel said quietly, smiling fondly as she brushed a few wayward curls from his face. Sherlock gave her an unamused look as she kissed his forehead. John was suddenly struck with the feeling that he was invading on a personal moment.

"I was not sleeping." Sherlock grumbled, sitting upright. Ariel gave a gentle chuckle.

"Yeah. Right." She said, smiling. "And you weren't snoring either." Sherlock looked mildly horrified for a moment before he schooled his features into one of aloof indifference.

"No matter. Such a short state of inactivity has past the remaining time until my network has accessed the suspects flat." He said, jumping up and bounding down the stairs.

Ariel and John leapt up and followed him, reaching the landing of the stairs to see Sherlock scooping up a piece of paper that had been slipped through the letter slot. The detective turned back to the stairs, a sly grin on his face.

"Just as I expected." He said, taking the stairs two at a time and shoving his way past John and Ariel. The two of them trailed behind him back to the living room, where Sherlock triumphantly unfolded the piece of paper and showed it to them. There, on what appeared to be a napkin, were the base letters for the pig pen cipher.

"Where did you find that?" John asked, recognizing it from Ariel's earlier description.

"My network found them, in the trash none the less. Amazing how careless people are with valuable information." Sherlock said flippantly as he picked up the mobile phone, opening the email to decipher the code. Ariel smiled, moving towards the kitchen to put the kettle on. She had a feeling they wouldn't be going to sleep any time soon.

"John, my notebook and pen, please." Sherlock asked, hand held out expectantly from his spot on the sofa. John sighed, shuffling to the table and handing them to Sherlock, who snatched them from his hand and began furiously writing.

The ex army doctor collapsed in his chair, taking a rest before the inevitable whirlwind that was Sherlock Holmes began again. He barely noticed when the kettle boiled, and was rather startled by the cup of steaming tea that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Of course, as soon as he looked up he saw that Ariel was smiling down at him, before she moved to place Sherlock's on the table. She looked over his shoulder, checking the link in the email again. John watched as her brow furrowed in thought, but she said nothing.

Sherlock's furious scribbling stopped suddenly and he stared down at letters he had decoded. ' _T-A-R-G-E-T-E-L-I-M-I-N-A-T-E-D-B-R-I-N-G-P-A-Y-M-E-N-T_ ' was scrawled on the page.

"'Target eliminated, bring payment'." Ariel read out, staring at the the page over Sherlock's shoulder. John's brow furrowed.

"'Bring payment'? Where? I mean, shouldn't there be a location or something." He asked, setting down his tea. Sherlock stood up, dropping the phone, notebook and pen as he stood. Hands clasped in front of his face as he began thinking. And that is the precise moment Ariel's thoughts lined up.

"The numbers." She breathed out, launching herself at the discarded phone.

"Numbers? What numbers?" John asked, completely lost yet again. Sherlock's eyes widened, however, as understanding dawned on him.

"Of course." He whispered. Ariel was accessing the email as quickly as she could.

"Excuse me. Is someone going to tell me what's going on here?" John asked again.

"The numbers at the end of the link. They seemed so weird when I saw them, but I dismissed them as being a away to disguise the code further. Now they make sense." Ariel explained quickly, showing John the email again. "See? These aren't just random numbers, there..."

"A location. That's brilliant!" Sherlock finished. "Most likely a latitude and longitude." The  
detective scrambled for his laptop, snapping it open and opening the search engine.

"What are the numbers?" He asked, demandingly.

"51.599990 negative 0.07440." Ariel relaid. Sherlock's fingers practically flew over the keyboard, and he nearly threw his laptop when the results took longer than usual to load. But soon enough, the search engine produced results. John wandered over to see the results of their search as well.

"'Bruce Castle Park'? Why there?" John wondered aloud, looking at the search results. Sherlock of course could not sit still and was already pacing the living room floor as John spoke. The genius was gone, off in his mind palace searching for information. John and Ariel locked eyes, both in the same state of confusion at this latest development.

It was several minutes later that Sherlock's eyes fluttered open, low 'oh' escaping his lips before the detective was bounding out of the flat, staying only long enough to grab his coat and scarf. As ever the loyal friends, Ariel and John were after him in a flash.

"Sherlock! Wait up!" Ariel called as she and John chased after him into the cool, dark London street. She managed to grab ahold of the detective before he went barreling down the street.

"Sherlock, you have to learn to wait for us." She panted, John joining them. "Now, would you please tell us what's going on?" Sherlock blinked at them in confusion.

"You don't know? Of course not, apologies. Have you ever heard the story of the ghostly lady of Bruce Castle?" He asked. Ariel shook her head.

"No, I don't think so." She answered. That's when John spoke up.

"That's the woman who they believe committed suicide in... 1680, was it?" He asked.

"Exactly." Sherlock said, nodding. "The story goes that she was confined to the upper rooms by her husband and supposedly flung herself and her child off the balcony in the middle of the night, effectively killing both of them."

"That's horrible." Ariel commented. "But what does that have to do with our assassins?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock asked, but the blank looks he got from his friends told him otherwise. With a dramatic sigh, he explained his thought process.

"Look, what kind of location would you pick to meet a stranger?" He asked impatiently.

"One you're familiar with?" John asked back, unsure that was the right answer. However, the please look from Sherlock said he'd got it right.

"Exactly. So, we know it was the assassin, or assassins, who chose the location, meaning they are the ones familiar with it. But why would a group of assassins use such a public location like Bruce Castle? Obviously because they have a link to it. There is a tower that is separate from the house, unused by the public and rarely entered by staff, a perfect hiding place for a group of assassins. Also, the tower has a disused basement area which would be an excellent location for private meetings." The detective explained, eyes glittering with the excitement of a case coming together.

"But then why mention the ghostly lady? It has nothing to do with it." Ariel said, confused. Sherlock turned to her, a triumphant grin on his face.

"No? I rather think it has everything to do with it. The hidden location in plain sight, the ghostly lady, the cipher, the consistent times, the assassinations all give us one vital clue." He explained, pausing dramatically.

John and Ariel waited in anticipation, but the detective didn't seem ready to share. John sigh frustratedly.

"Which is?" The doctor prompted, waiting for the final piece of the puzzle.

"Our group of assassins is in fact made up entirely of women." Sherlock stated finally.

"What? Why would you say that?" John asked, astonished.

"All the clues are there, John. Now, would you stop talking and allow me to work?" Sherlock snapped, hand sticking out and hailing a cab.

A cab appeared on the rather empty street, stopping to pick them up. The three pilled in, Sherlock giving the driver the address as the cab pulled away, heading into the darkness of London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo, how interesting! What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Find a mistake? Have an idea? Please, leave a review and tell me what's on your mind! I live for reviews, they make my day! Plus, they encourage me to update quicker. ;)


	74. Tower Fight

**Chapter LXXIV**

John was rather grumpy as he sat in the back of the cab, waiting for Sherlock to explain further about what it was they were doing. It was a rather silent, and lengthy, cab ride before they were dropped off at the eerily unlit park, the enormous brick mansion looming like a darkened mountain in the background.

Sherlock, unsurprisingly, sprung from the cab the first chance he got, leaving John and Ariel to pay the cabbie before following the madman into the darkness. Luckily for them, Sherlock didn't seem to be in to much of a hurry to go running off, which meant they caught up to him fairly quickly.

The detective stood on the edge of the park, eyes moving unseeingly as he searched his mental maps for the location of the tower on the property. He quickly dashed off, followed by his loyal entourage as they moved quickly and quietly through the sparse trees that surrounded the tower.

When Ariel finally saw it, her breath caught. As a woman who loved the thought of medieval London, the round red brick tower that stood before her, with a slight bit of moss and high arches, looked like a place completely out of the period itself. It was as if they had been transported back to the time of horses, knights in shining armour and ladies in waiting. However, she was snapped from her awed thoughts by the low whisper of Johns voice.

"What are we doing Sherlock?" He asked, voice sounding a bit frustrated.

"There will undoubtedly be cameras hidden around to protect the tower from vandals." Sherlock whispered back. Even in the low light, Ariel saw John roll his eyes.

"That's not what I meant. I meant, do we have a plan?" He whispered coarsely.

"We have to get in." Sherlock said, as if that explained everything.

"Sherlock, it's the middle of the bloody night! Why can't we just come back tomorrow?" John asked, cold and tired as he crouched uncomfortably.

"Because, this may be our only chance. What day is it, John?" Sherlock asked.

"Monday." The doctor replied, not understanding the topic change or its significants.

"And what day were the murders committed on?" The detective asked.

"Monday." John whispered in reply, still not seeing the connection.

"Exactly. Meaning, it is most likely that they meet on Monday evenings, particularly before eliminating a target." Sherlock explained, making the pieces fit for John.

"But won't that mean they'll be armed? And exactly what are we to do if we find them in there? We don't have any backup, Sherlock, and I doubt there is any way we can take them by ourselves." John snarled, absolutely fed up with being dragged along.

"Nonsense John. You are a trained solider, I am an expert in serval types of self defence, and Ariel here is a well trained agent of the British government. We will definitely be able to hold them off for at least as long as it takes for Lestrade and his half wits to show up." Sherlock quipped. John seemed confused, again.

"Lestrade's coming?" He asked, causing Sherlock to whip around at him.

"Yes. Ariel texted him while we were in the cab. And seeing as how she sent it seventeen minute and twenty three seconds ago, Lestrade should be here within the next, let's say, fifteen minutes. Now, do shut up and let's go." Sherlock snapped before twirling around and walking stealthily towards the tower without another word.

Ariel took off after him, following his footsteps. John groaned in annoyance, watching the two make their way across the yard before chasing after them. There were no windows on the tower, except for one near the top, so there was no telling what was inside. The large wooden door with iron bindings stood between them and the group of assassins.

Ariel took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her ears and adrenaline flooding her veins. She watched as John pulled out his gun, preparing for a fight. With a quick nod from him, Sherlock pushed the door open. It swung slowly in on the giant iron hinges. Sherlock was first inside, followed by John, and then Ariel.

She blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the low light of the tower, which had only a few light fixtures. The three of them peered through the large room, looking for possible enemies. When they found none, John lowered his gun slightly, looking to Sherlock. They seemed to have a silent discussion, which ended up with Sherlock leading the way towards the stairs.

As he hit the bottom stair, a small section of floorboards behind the rickety looking wooden staircase popped up. The three froze, watching as a pair of delicate hands slid the boards up and along the floor before a head of long raven black hair appeared from the below. Sherlock leaned to get a closer look, causing the stair to creak under him and the black haired woman to turn around.

She was standing on the floor in a flash, as was John's gun trained on her. She seemed to give a surrendering look, her hands coming up lazily to give the impression of peace, however her confident eyes said different.

"What are you doing here?" She hissed, voice ice cold and laced with venom. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her as he took a step closer.

"We are here to stop you." He said plainly, as casually as if he had just said the sky was blue. The mysterious woman cocked her head at him in amusement.

"Really? You came to stop us? And what makes you think you can stop 'Lunam Mortem'?" She asked, sneering at Sherlock. The detectives eyes lit up at the new information before he turned back to interrogating the woman.

"'Moon Death'? I must say, that is quite the name for a group of assassins."

"You seem so sure of yourself, as if you could even dare touch us." She laughed. "Pray tell, do you have a name?"

"Sherlock Holmes." He replied, a jagged and dangerous edge to his voice.

"Ah, the great Sherlock Holmes. My sisters and I will take great pleasure in killing you." The woman sneered, before pulling from her back pocket two throwing knives, which she threw directly at Sherlock.

Several things happened at once before it all became a wild confusion of fighting. As she threw her knives, which Sherlock dodged successfully, John aimed and fired at the woman, who also dodged. Ariel drew a gun, one she had hoped not to use, and two other women appeared at the hole in the floor - one holding a rifle and one climbing out of the hole. Ariel took aim at the rifle woman, but missed.

Knife woman was in what looked very much like a sword dance with Sherlock, as she had drawn new knives and he had collected the ones she had thrown. And the woman who had just climbed up had now drawn a hand gun. The fight continued to grow as another woman climbed from the depth of the tower, this time wielding what looked very much like a flamethrower.

John finally got a shot in to the woman armed with the rifle, which hit her in the arm, not lethal by any means, but enough to keep her from shooting. She disappeared only to be replaced with another woman a moment later, this time wielding what appeared in all the confusion to be a blowdart gun. Sherlock had managed to knock the knife wielding woman unconscious and was now currently trying to disarm the flamethrower. Ariel counted in her head as she fired at the woman with the hand gun.

 _1, 2, 3, 4, 5... Meaning one more. What was it?_  She thought, trying to figure out the other assassin, who must be hiding below. John yelped as he narrowly missed a poison tipped blowdart. Poison... Of course! The last one was also a poison, but poisonous gas. Which meant they were not likely to be endangered by that assassin, because that would mean effectively killing herself and the other members of her group.

Ariel was shocked from her thoughts as she heard John cry out once again, only this time, he had been hit with the dart. Ariel looked at him wide eyed as he stared at it, sticking out of his arm. The doctor felt it go numb before the numbness began to spread. He quickly pulled it out of him and smelled it, looking for any way to detect what it was as he slunk down to hide behind an upturned table.

His eyes shifted to Ariel and his managed to get out, "It's just an anesthetic..." before his eyelids shut and he slumped, unconscious, against the table. Ariel made her way over to him, grabbing his gun. She had a feeling she was going to need it if the good doctor was out cold.

She peered over the edge of the table, seeing Sherlock tackling the flamethrower still, and seeming to do alright, so she turned her attention back to the hole in the floor. Adrenaline, rage, and fear were flooding her system, and with a precision she wouldn't admit she ever had, Ariel managed to shoot the blowdart wielding woman, effectively killing her. Forgetting the corpse that lie there, Ariel turned her attention back to the other gun woman, who was still stood by the hole.

One shot, and the gun was knocked from her hands and, in a perfectly cinematic way, slide across the floor. Sherlock saw this, so he quickly knocked the flamethrower unconscious, and scrambled to beat the gunner to her weapon. Luckily for Sherlock, Ariel was not only a sharp shoot, but on his side, so that when the gunner had gotten close to the abandoned weapon, Ariel fired a warning shot to keep her from reaching it. Sherlock's long pale fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the gun, and as he stood he pointed it to the woman who had once held it.

Unlike the raven haired woman from the beginning of this encounter, her surrender seemed to be genuine. But to make sure she didn't cause trouble, Sherlock walked up to her and cracked her upside the head with the butt of the gun. Ariel cringed as she watched and heard the woman's body crumble unconsciously to the floor.

Sherlock gave her a wild look, one that was pumping with adrenaline and the flame of the fight. He held up two fingers and pointed to the floor, signalling that he knew there were two more down below. Ariel nodded and, having been closer, managed to get to the opening quicker than Sherlock, and she dropped down in to the dingy basement of the nearly millennium old tower.

It was even darker down here, and completely bare. Nothing but a few rugs and several bottles and jars littered the dirt floor. Ariel peered round for the other two assassins, but could not see them. She heard Sherlock drop down behind her, but continued to peer. That's when she saw it. The smallest shimmer of reflected light as it reflected off a metal wire...

"Look out!" She cried, launching herself at Sherlock and knocking him to the ground. The detective looked rather put out, but she didn't have time to explain. All of a sudden, there was the sound of several people entering the tower. Sherlock and Ariel froze for a moment before scrambled back to look out the hole at the new arrivals.

"Lestrade!" Ariel cried, extremely relieved to have the detective inspector here. He looked at them, noticing them in the hole.

"Bloody hell, how did you get down there?" He asked, coming over to help them out.

"Never mind that. There are two more female assassins around.." Sherlock said bluntly as he helped Ariel out before taking the DIs hand and getting out.

"You mean those two?" Lestrade asked, gesturing to the doorway where two women were stood, hands cuffed as a pair of officers guarded them. "Caught them sneaking out of a drainage cover just outside. Must be connect to the tower somehow." Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically at the obviousness and stupidity of the detective inspector.

"Obviously." He grumbled before a thought occurred to him.

"Where's John?" He asked, looking around. Ariel's eyes widened before she leapt towards where she had left the doctor, Lestrade and Sherlock on her heels. John lay where Ariel had left him in the fight, slumped against the upturned table. Quickly checking his vitals, Ariel sighed in relief to find that he was still, in fact, alive.

"Right. He needs urgent medical attention. Did you bring an ambulance?" Ariel asked Lestrade, letting go of the point where she was checking Johns pulse.

"Of course." Lestrade replied before calling in the team of paramedics. A few short minutes later, Ariel and Sherlock were crammed in the back of an ambulance alongside John, who was being well looked after.

"Well, looks like another case closed then." Ariel sighed out, the absence of adrenaline leaving her weak and tired. She settled her head on Sherlock's shoulder, resting.

"Not quite. We've still got the interrogation to do." He replied, his mind already at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Want more? Please, leave a review and help me write faster! :D


	75. The Past Unveiled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry this chapter took so long, but among other factors, this is a pretty critical character building chapter for Ariel, so I needed to get it just right. (Or, as close to right as I liked it :P) But now it's finished, so let's get on with the show!

**Chapter LXXV**

"Hey. You feeling ok?" Ariel asked soothingly as John stirred, heavy eyelids lifting for him to see. No sooner did he open his eyes than a wave of nausea hit him.

Eyes wide open now, hand on his mouth, he knew he only had milliseconds to find a suitable place to vomit. Bile rose in his throat, and John knew his time was up. He leaned forward instinctively as he heaved, the contents of his stomached emptying into... a bowl.

John didn't have time to be grateful that there was a bowl as he was to busy filling it. A moment later and John relaxed against the hospital bed, exhausted and completely ill.

"I'll take that as a no then." Ariel said facetiously, a grimace on her face as she removed the bowl from his lap.

"Ugh. Sorry. What...What happened?" He asked, sputtering a bit as he tried to remove the awful taste of stomach bile from his mouth.

"You were injected with an anesthetic, which knocked you unconscious. Here." Sherlock explained before handing John a glass of water. John took it gratefully and sipped it, nervous of how his stomach would react.

"You've been out for a couple of hours, but the doctor said you'll be fine." Ariel concluded, answering all of John's questions, even if unspoken. John nodded.

"Thanks. Wait, what about the assassins?" He asked, suddenly worried. But Ariel's warm smile and Sherlock's pleased grin calmed him down.

"They are currently in custody. We will hopefully get a chance to interrogate them tomorrow." Sherlock said, before a spark occurred in his eye. "Though, not all of them made it into police hands."

"What? What happened? How many got away?" John asked, worried once again.

"Oh no, not got away John. No, she simply died during our fight. It was only one woman." Sherlock illuminated casually. John sighed wearily, his head falling back against the pillow as he shut his eyes against the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Right." He said after a moment, mind attempting to process things. "One more thing. I remember shooting the rifle girl in the arm, but I don't remember firing any lethal shot."

"That's because you didn't." Sherlock replied cryptically.

"But, if I didn't, who did?" John asked, confused. Sherlock didn't reply, only gave a pointed look to Ariel. The girl beside John adverted her gaze, not looking at either of the men. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to get the hint. John turned, amazed, to Ariel.

"Hang on, you mean... You shot her?" The doctor asked, surprised. "Wait, I remember that you had a gun. Where did you get a gun?" Ariel didn't make any attempt to answer the accusations, her back turned and shoulders hunched defensively.

"I think it's time you told us a bit more about what your role was for the British government." Sherlock's low voice said, almost gently. Ariel sighed, her body quivering slightly as she stood tall, steeling herself for this.

She turned around slowly, her eyes locking onto the two men she held most dear. John noticed in that moment just how much like Sherlock she was right now. Her face was cold and indifferent, distant as she prepared to delve into an unforgiving past.

"You don't want to know." She gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Perhaps not, but don't you think I deserve to know?" Sherlock questioned.

"And when exactly were you planning on sharing your history with me?" Ariel snapped back, before realizing she had yelled. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"Ariel, please. It's alright. We're here." John said soothingly, his natural instinct to protect others coming out. Sherlock seemed to take some unintended hint from his words and skirted around the bed to be nearer to his girlfriend. He held her hand tightly, tilting her chin up gently so she was forced to look at him.

"Even if I could tell you, I wouldn't want to say it." Ariel muttered, eyes brimming with unshed tears as she looked away. He gently turned her head and looked into her eyes.

"Tell me. Please." Sherlock ask, his voice a low rumble as he pleaded with her. Ariel sighed, knowing there was no way she could resist this man. So, taking a step back, she motioned for Sherlock to sit. When he did, she began her tale.

"There is a lot of my past I wish I could forget. Living nightmares that would terrify most and are deadly. You both know I worked for the government, part of that time spent with Mycroft. What you don't know is what I did for them." She paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself before continuing.

"You have to understand, what I am about to tell you breaks every confidentiality paper, every contract, and every god damn law I swore by. If certain people found out what I've done, I'd be executed. No mercy. The government will not be forgiving here." Her hateful sneer as clear on her face as in her words.

"Remember, the man who is at the top of the chain is my brother. I can convince him to intercede on your behalf." Sherlock said softly. Ariel laughed, without any humour.

"I doubt very much your brother would be able to wipe out all the red in my ledger." She replied grimly.

"You'd be surprised." Was Sherlock's hushed reply. Another deep breath for Ariel, this time a flash of hope in her eyes, before she continued with her gruesome tale.

"It started when I came home from my tour. I believed I had served my country, I had survived, now it was time to make something of my life. I tried several jobs, went to uni for journalism and writing, among other things, but nothing worked. I only did one year at uni. The first dozen jobs never worked out. Somehow, life didn't seem to be the same after I left the military. I knew I didn't want to go back, there was too much risk, but somehow civilian life was... unbearable. It was a fluke that I got in to a position with the government. It was my mothers doing. She wanted me to have a good, secure, well paying job, something that was respectable." Here, Sherlock snorted, but a heated glare from Ariel and a quick jab from John silenced the detective.

"I never thought I'd end up where I did. I had only been working this dinky desk job for two months, when rumour started going around one of the uppity ups was looking for a new assistant. All of the workers on my level, especially the ones who'd been there a while, prepared their very best, batting eyelashes and kissing up in order to get the promotion. I was so frustrated with my boring desk job that I didn't care if I never came in to the bloody office again. And then, it happened.

The boss, Robert Gull, and one of his underlings swaggered into the floor of the building where I worked. It was like a pet store, where each employee was like a puppy eager to be picked. It disgusted me. Of course, how was I to know that his pompous self would stride over to my desk and ask in that fake pleasant tone for me to follow him. It was the day my life changed." There was a sad, bitter look to Ariel's eyes, one that threatened to be more fully expressed either through tears or full blown anger. There was an awkward moment of silence as she collected herself, before she cleared her throat and continued.

"My life changed that day. He didn't want an assistant, he wanted a solider, a spy; someone to do his dirty work. He made me a deal. If I trained, became his...his blood hound, he would give me more money than I could spend and more excitement than I had ever dreamed of. Of course, I was young, naïve, so I said yes. I spent months, maybe even a year or more, trapped in a facility in a foreign country, where I was trained to be just that - a soldier and spy, a blood hound. When I was finally sent back to Gull, I was ready for anything. Trained to decrypt anything, hack into anywhere, obtain information at any cost and kill anyone who got in my way."

"He made you a government spy." John breathed out, unbelievingly. Ariel nodded.

"He turned me into a monster, and effective killing machine. Forced me into it. I worked under him for four years. I did... Things I'm not proud of, things I wish I could forget. Killed people who didn't deserve it. It was pure luck I got assigned to report to Mycroft on that assignment." Ariel said, pausing as she looked up at John and Sherlock, both of whom were quietly listening to her tale.

"Don't think I feel indebted to your brother, as I've paid him back for his help. But if it wasn't for Mycroft, I may not have lived through that mission. Gull had me on a black market operation. I was to make surveillance and hack into their computer systems to track where they were getting their supplies from. Of course, things started to get ugly, as they often did, which is when I was called upon to report to one Mycroft Holmes. I was used to giving full reports, so I told him what I would normally tell Gull, all the grim and horrid deeds. Mycroft, apparently not shocked, told me to go home and that I had done well.

The next day I went to sign in and Gull had been, as Mycroft later told me, "let go do to over stepping his boundaries". In the end, I was glad, even though it meant I was out of a job. That's when Mycroft... well, he called me into his office and made me a deal, which is how I ended up working for him. And the rest, you know already." Ariel concluded, head hung low. "I'm sorry. I guess... I guess... I should leave."

She turned to go, when a small, weak voice said, "Don't go. Please." She couldn't help the urge that made her turn around to find the source of that small voice. As she turned around she saw where that voice had come from. Sherlock, stood tall beside John's bed, looking like a lost and scared little child.

"Sherlock, you don't want me to stay. It's not safe. I'm not safe." She said, drawing away, a sad smile on her face. He stepped closer, arm outstretched, but said nothing.

"You don't have to be alone. We will protect you. We can help." John said quietly. Ariel turned to face him, and gave him a tired, worn out and sad smile.

"Alone is what I am, John. It is the only thing that will protect me from more heartache." She whispered, barely audible to John's ears. The doctor could see the tears that were forming in her eyes again. This pained her too.

Something about her words though reminded him of Sherlock's words before the Fall, their last words face to face. " _Alone is what I have. Alone protects me._ " John had often contemplated what Sherlock had really meant then. Now he knew. Ariel's last sentence explained it. Ariel and Sherlock were not completely different people. Underneath their opposite exteriors lay an undeniably similar heart, one worn away and tattered by hardships, persecution and loss.

But this was no way for her to deal with it. Ariel would stay, and John would make sure of it. Before the doctor could say anything, Sherlock spoke, in tones as cold as ice.

"Fine. If you believe it best, leave. My best wishes to you, Ms. Hunt." He said, the words far from meant. Ariel looked hurt, and she made sure Sherlock saw her pain.

"I don't want to leave you, Sherlock. If I had a choice, I wouldn't. But if I don't, then what happens to you when the people I used to track and kill hunt me down? What happens if the government comes after me? What happens if I don't... if I don't make it? Sherlock, please, understand, I'm doing it to protect you." Ariel pleaded, her voice declining from hurt and angry to begging and tearful. She added, softly, "I don't want to hurt you."

Sherlock's attitude changed, and John watched as he took one long stride across the room, bringing him face to face with the broken woman. Gently, he cupped her face and lifted her head, his silver eyes locking on to her sapphire ones.

"If there was anyone you trusted your life with, wouldn't it be the most intelligent person you know?" Sherlock asked. Ariel smiled, leaning into his touch before replying.

"No." Ariel said, a slight giggle to her tone. "It would be to the man I love the most." She was smiling up at Sherlock, who stood dumbfounded. Ariel look at him expectantly, but he didn't seem to get it.

"She means you, idiot." John finally piped up with a snigger.

Sherlock blushed, before smiling down at the girl in his arms. Hesitantly, he placed a kiss on her cheek before whispering,

"Stay. Please."

Ariel smiled lovingly at the man who was the centre of her world. Her whispered reply was not lost to John.

"Alright. Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Was it a bit anticlimactic? Or was it over dramatic? Please, I need your feedback! Leave a review or pm me your thoughts! Thank you so much!


	76. A New Day Dawns

**Chapter LXXVI**

"Good. So it's settled then. You're staying and we get to help you?" John asked after a long moment, waiting for the couple to break up. Ariel tilted her head to look around Sherlock, smiling brightly at John.

"Yes. I will." She said, though her attention quickly shifted back to Sherlock.

The man whom John would have normally expected a sociopathic response, or rather lack there of, from surprised the doctor when he gently cupped Ariel's cheeks and placed a loving kiss to her lips. John felt his face flush as he watched them, lovingly exchanging kisses that said more than their words could.

That's the moment another wave of nausea decided to hit him. Thankfully, his stomach was empty, but it did ruin the mood for Sherlock and Ariel to have a man dry heaving beside them. Ariel broke away from Sherlock and, with a reassuring squeeze to his hand, went over to help John.

After what felt like an eternity, John finally calmed down.

"Sorry." He gasped, when he was able to speak again.

"I should be the one sorry." Ariel apologized, getting him a fresh glass of water. John took it gratefully, sipping the cool liquid fervently.

"And I was just starting to feel like going home." He said, a little chuckle in his voice.

"You wouldn't have being going home tonight anyways." Sherlock replied. John raised a quizzical eyebrow, waiting for an elaboration, which came from Ariel.

"The doctor said they're going to keep you in overnight, just to make sure you're really okay." She informed him gently. "Do you want Sherlock and I to stay with you?"

"No, no, you two go home and get a good nights sleep. Just be sure to come back for me in the morning, yeah?" John chuckled out, a warm but tired smile on his face, which Ariel reflected back to him.

"Of course. Good night, John." She said, smiling before giving the army doctor a half hug and a light pat to the shoulder.

"Sleep well." Sherlock chimed in, a nod of his head to his blogger and friend. John smiled, a light chuckle in his throat.

"You too, you git. Don't forget about me." John teased. Sherlock gave him a half smile.

"I could never forget you." He replied, sincerely. John chuckled.

"Hey, tell her you love her, yeah?" John asked. Sherlock's only reply was a smile and a brief nod before he ducked out of the room with Ariel. John relaxed and sighed, pleased he could rest in peace. After all, he had a lot of new information to mull over.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Baker Street was silent as Sherlock and Ariel entered the flat. Thoughts of their conversation, especially the last bit, kept running through her mind in the cab home. Mostly it was the things that went unsaid, the looks shared between them, that she kept returning too. She had known Sherlock cared for her, perhaps to the extent that he would try to prevent her from leaving, but she didn't think he would be so deeply affected by her choice to leave.

She had expected him to hate her after she had explained her past, expected him to tell her to leave, but when he didn't, it pained her to even attempt to leave him. Which was probably the reason she had caved so easily, agreeing to stay even though she knew no good would come of it. But that's when she allowed herself the tinniest of hope that she could be safe with him, that Sherlock Holmes would protect her.

Ariel stopped in the middle of the living room, feeling Sherlock's gaze on her back. She heard him close the door to the flat, him turn around and the gentle thud of his footsteps as he approached her. Sherlock placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Look Sherlock, I'm sorry..." She began, turning, but before she could finish, Sherlock bent down and captured her lips in a kiss. Ariel froze in shock, an indecent gasp escaping her. No sooner had Sherlock begun the kiss than he ended it, pulling back enough to be able to speak.

"There is no need to be sorry. Just don't ever think of leaving me again." He whispered, his low voice rumbling as he spoke. Ariel sighed.

"I don't ever want to leave you." She replied in a whisper, her hand threading into Sherlock's curls. The detective had shifted his hand to her waist, holding them closely together. Ariel sighed again, looking up at her man.

"Does this mean you forgive me?" She asked, hope filling her eyes.

"If by forgive, you mean have I come to terms with your past and accepted that it is not who you are now? Because then yes, I forgive you." Sherlock replied in his usual matter-of-factly tone. Ariel giggled, insanely happy. Sherlock joined her, his deep chuckle and her light giggle twinning together in the otherwise silent flat. As the laughter died away, Sherlock suddenly became very serious, but also a bit sheepish.

"I must say, when you attempted to leave, I... I..." Sherlock stopped and took a deep breath, apparently at a loss for words. Ariel smiled gently as she cupped his cheek.

"Were you scared I would actually leave you?" She asked quietly. Sherlock nodded mutely, before seeming to find his voice again.

"As I have said before, emotions are not my area. But I believe that what I experienced in that moment was a fear of loss. To put it in poetic terms, of which I do not normally use, I... I do not believe I could imagine my life without you in it." He explained, and Ariel could see the nervousness carefully hidden behind his eyes. Her smile widened.

"Sherlock Holmes, you are incredibly romantic." She sighed out lovingly. Sherlock looked extremely flustered and confused at the compliment.

"I am?" He asked in disbelief. Ariel giggled, absolutely high on Sherlock's stunned look.

"Of course you are." She giggled out. Sherlock's eyebrow quirked up in disbelief.

"Are you sure?" He asked again after a moment.

"Yes, I'm sure. Sherlock, you may think you are some cold hearted, emotionless genius, but you aren't. You are the most romantic man I've ever known. But that's not what matters. What matters is that you're mine." Ariel looked up at Sherlock through her lashes, hoping he understood what she mean. He grinned down at her.

"I am as much yours as you are mine." He said plainly, though Ariel could see his eyes sparkling at the thrill of that thought. She nodded, smiling again.

"That is... Oddly reassuring." Sherlock said after a moment of silence, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. The girl in his arms giggled.

"It is always reassuring to know that the one you love cares just as deeply for you." She softly said as she stood up a bit straighter to press a kiss to his high, sharp cheekbone.

Sherlock held her tightly, not wanting this moment to end. He gently placed his lips on hers, and it was only mere seconds before Ariel allowed him to deepen it. He explored her mouth, this being the first time he was ever really allowed such detailed inspection. Ariel stood, holding him tightly as she let him kiss her. Sherlock's kiss was tender and soft, his lips plush and gentle as he moved them slowly against hers. Ariel didn't want this to ever end. In fact, she couldn't believe she had survived this long without it.

They parted a few moments later, Sherlock resting his forehead on hers, eyes locked onto each other as they shared breath. Ariel's eyes drifted shut, her lips grazing Sherlock's as she whispered, "I love you." She felt her detective freeze under her for a split second before he relaxed and whispered, "And I love you."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

John woke up to the sound of people entering his room. He groggily opened his eyes to see Sherlock and Ariel, as well as a doctor, approaching.

"Good morning, doctor Watson. How are you feeling?" The stout, greying doctor asked

cheerily. John groaned a bit as he stretched and rubbed his eyes.

"Aside from feeling a bit stiff, I'm fine." John responded, trying to sound chipper but failing. He caught Ariel smiling at him out of the corner of his eye. The doctor did a few routine checks before he stood back with a satisfied smile.

"Good. Then we'll just get your release papers signed and you can be free to go." The doctor replied before producing a clipboard and pen for John. After signing the papers, John changed out of the horrid hospital gown into a fresh set of clothes Ariel had brought for him. He was extremely grateful not to have to wear his dirty clothes from the day before.

As soon as John was ready, the three of them hopped in the back of a cab and were whizzing off towards New Scotland Yard. John thought he saw Sherlock and Ariel exchanging sneaky grins and boarder line flirtatious looks, but he couldn't be sure. They were almost there when their cab hit bumper to bumper traffic, gridlocked in the bustling London streets. Sherlock whispered something to Ariel before popping open the cab door and abandoning the stranded cab.

"Here's good enough. Thanks." Ariel said to the cabbie quickly before jumping out after Sherlock, leaving a clueless and rather lost John to pay the fare. Once he'd dug out the notes, handed them to the cabbie, he chased after his friends, catching up quickly.

"What was that all about?" John asked, huffing and puffing. Sherlock gave him a curious look before replying.

"It's faster to walk the three blocks from here to Scotland Yard than to sit in the back of the cab." He said, strolling along the sidewalks.

"You could have at least told me." John grumbled.

"Tedious. Besides, you caught on soon enough." Sherlock replied briskly. John mumbled something neither of the other two caught. Soon enough, however, they were at Scotland Yard, Sherlock eager to do some interrogating. One of the many assistance directed them to an area where they were told to wait until Lestrade came and got them.

"Ariel, you should be with Lestrade. John will join me in the interrogation and you and the good DI will watch behind the one way glass." Sherlock stated plainly. Ariel seemed to balk for a moment be for she smiled and nodded.

"If you say so, Sherlock." Was her gentle reply.

John frowned. Something was off, and even though he didn't have the 'mighty powers of deduction', he knew something changed in the dynamics of Sherlock and Ariel's relationship. Probably, had he known how to be more observant, he would have pieced it together by now. Because he wasn't, however, he was left to puzzle it out in his own time. Dismissing that line of inquiry, John mentally prepared for the interrogation of the assassins. Which was just as detective inspector Lestrade appeared.

"Good. Everyone's all here. This way." He directed, turning on his heels and retreating down the hallway. The three of them followed behind until the reached a larger door.

"There is only one of the girls in there right now. I can get the others, but we found that questioning them individually proved more effective." Lestrade informed Sherlock. The detective slow nodded and hummed, both in acknowledgement and thought.

"Excellent. Never preferred more than one human in a room. To much stupid." He muttered before turning and entering the door, John hot on his heels. Ariel turned to Lestrade, grinning at him sweetly.

"Shall we watch the hilarity unfold?" She asked, a hint of humour in her voice.

"This way." Lestrade indicated with a nod of his head as he stepped back, letting Ariel take the lead towards another door, leading to the observation area. She was honestly delighted to find a couple of nice, comfortable looking desk chairs in the room, though there were two techs who were unsettled at having someone non police in the area.

"She's with me." Lestrade said to calm their nerves. Ariel took a deep breath. Time for the show to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Have an idea about what John's noticing? Or did you miss that bit? Please, leave a review or pm me and let me know! Reviews make me write faster! ;D


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